The Colours of War
Blue, the colour of the soldiers face as he wrenches in pain,
Red, the colour of the soldiers blood as it soaks the ground,
Green, the colour of the soldiers khaki, torn and ripped,
Black, the colour of the hovering skies above.
Orange, the colour of the flame that comes from a gun,
Yellow, the colour of a brighter life in the soldiers mind,
Pink, the colour of the soldiers darkening, fresh bruise.
These are the colours of war.
Blue, the colours of the glorious skies and heavens above,
Red, the colour of rosy cheeked faces,
Green, the colour of the beautiful fields and lands,
Black, the colour of the fearless night.
Orange, the colour of the sky at sun set,
Yellow, the colour of the warm, comforting sun,
Pink, the colour of smiling faces, no gas masks in sight,
White, the colour of people's dreams.
These are the colours of peace.
- David Bayes
Enigma
I am multi-faceted, me.
The answer to the puzzle no one can see.
I am spontaneous, I'm complex.
You'll never guess what I'll think of next.
Spontaneous Me!
A vein of pure creativity,
If you search into the corners of my mind,
What do you think you will find?
I am something no one can be.
Wonderful, multi-faceted me.
- Ellen Abeli
Puzzled
I once was very puzzled,
so crazy and confused,
I wanted to yell and scream--which I knew I couldn't do...
I felt dumb as I looked at the time,
why had I made this stupid rhyme?
My time was almost up,
I yelped and cried like a pup...
My ears red, my fingers green...
It was proved that I am not too keen...
"Stop! Don't come near..."
I wailed and shed a tear...
She slammed a ruler down on my desk...
"Times up!!!" She said--- "Now give me your test!!!"
- Kenda Swanson, age 13
My Grandmother
Not so long ago,
I remember as we sat together in your big grey chair,
as you read me stories of adventure,
before I went to sleep.
Now all I feel is lonely.
My Grandma left me,
and Mama said she won't be coming back.
"Why Grandma, Why did you leave me?"
"I miss you Grandma."
"Please come home."
- Stephanie Herbert
Our Season Poem
Summer is the season when laughter comes out with a great big shout!
Summer is when we play with a smile all day.
Summer is the blue water where it's nice and cool.
And the sky shines on us.
Spring is a flower drifting away when we look in the garden we feel happy all day.
Spring is colored flowers, blossoms, and roses that shine on us when we play.
Flowers are pretty when we look at them every day.
Fall is leaves that are green, red and yellow. Don't forget purple too!
Fall is when we rake the leaves in a pile and jump on them.
Winter is a snowflake falling on your nose.
Drinking hot cocoa and cuddling your toes.
Making snowmen and having fun.
Snowball fights with everyone.
- Maria Cerase and Amanda Horn
Poems
Love is kind,
Love is sweet,
Love is to care for.
So is a special treat.
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I'm in love with you,
Can't you see,
I cannot be,
For your love is strong,
That's why it keeps me holding on.
- Tashi Kimble, age 12
Limerick
There once was a man from Crocket,
Who went to the moon in a rocket,
He went into space,
In a horible disgrace,
Because he forgot to lock it!
- Sheila Greening, age 9
The Sun
The sun is a beautiful thing,
I always think I hear it sing.
A ball of fire,
round like a tire.
That beautiful, round, golden thing!
- Erin Kennedy, age 9, Myrtle Beach, SC
Sisters
They never tell you sorry
They borrow all your stuff
They have no respect for you
All right now that's enough!
They always stink up the bathroom
And embarrass you in front of all your friends
They always need their beauty sleep
The long list never ends
they look ugly in their make-up
Though you say they look great
Telling them they can't do something
Like achieving world peace
Could get you in great trouble
Like tearing you in more than one piece
Whatever they do whatever they say
They always have to get their way
But nevertheless, even though they're snots
Little sisters have to love them lots.
- April Lauren McCants
Cat in the Window
Cat in the window, what do you hear?
Wind whirling down the street chasing rubbish, clatter clatter
Parents chatting together, Children playing, babies wailing,
People hooting at each other, car screeching to a halt.
Pigeons scattering down the street, crows going hawk hawk!
Cat in the window, what do you hear?
A strong wind swirling down the street, chasing children
Mums and dads moaning, boys playing football, people shout
People driving cars, racing down and stop, out they get.
Pigeons scurrying down the street, sparrows peaceful in their nest.
- Maya Oppenheim, Aged 8 , London, UK
A Boy
Sticking his tongue,
Hopping around,
Collecting insects
From the nearby wasteground.
Eyeballs sticking out,
Naughty and creepy is he,
Croaking when it's time for homework,
What a creature to be!
- Insiyah Amiruddeen Age 15, Sri Lanka
A Girl
Pretty as she looks, Beautiful with a touch of grace,
Lovely coloured frills,
All over her face.
Thin and slender,
Softly she steps on the ground,
Filled with sweet honey;
What a lovely thing to be found!
- Insiyah Amiruddeen Age 15, Sri Lanka
Fireworks
Flashing through the brilliant sky,
Twisting, turning, so very up high,
All it can do is make me sigh.
With all the colours so very bright,
High above like a very big fight,
Prominent throughout the night.
And of course! On the ground,
Spinning, round and round,
With a sweet, soft, buzzing sound.
All these lovely fireworks,
Rockets, fireworks, it could be anything,
But nothing can match,
The lovely catherine wheel.
- Insiyah Amiruddeen Age 15, Sri Lanka
The Shimmering Sky
Red, green, blue, purple,
Colours amazingly bright.
Dazzling, sparkling, shining, glittering,
Soothing, brilliant light.
- Insiyah Amiruddeen Age 15, Sri Lanka
(sonnet)
Enter a tropical, wild wonderland.
Life within the rain forest never stops.
Rest fifty feet high for a view so grand.
Spot a blue arrow frog on the treetops.
Explore nature, the animals and plants,
And discover rainbows up in the sky.
Look closely and see the leaf cutter ants.
Taste the pure sugarcane. Watch birds soar high.
Feel the moist soil beneath your bare feet,
Inhale the fragrance of dazzling flowers.
Wee hummingbirds feed on orchids so sweet,
Savor the sounds of the river for hours.
God's gifts of nature, he gives us to please,Beneath the canopy of rich green trees.- Veronica Garrity, age 10
(haiku)
The rain forest has
beautiful, tropical, wild
animals and plants.
- Veronica Garrity, age 10
Basketball Shoes
As I jump higher and higher
I see my team on fire
When I am running
I am so cunning
When I am turning
My shoes are burning
We won the game
So woop-dee-doo
When I lay down and take a snooze
I'll be wearin those basketball shoes
- Paige Liljedahl, age 10
My Teacher told Me To Do This
My teacher told me to do this
He did
He did
I wouldn't have done it otherwise
I wouldn't
I wouldn't
I really really hate this
I hate this
I hate this
Well, maybe it's not that bad
It isn't?
It isn't?
No it isn't
It isn't
It isn't
I think I'll do it anyway
In fact, this is fun!
- Ryan Lawson, aged 9, Wellington, New Zealand
The Land of Dreams
To and fro through the Land of Dreams
We sail and talk of many things.
Over the sea of quilts and sheets
To a land where no dark clouds come near,
We steer our ship.
Fast do we sail, for we must be there before the break of day.
We are like Odysseus, dodging monsters from the Land of Nightmare.
They creep and swim, trying to get into our ship of solid oak.
Hark, do I see or is it just me,
The land that we have been looking for?
Happy am I, for to me this land is majestic.
With things from within our imagination:
Trolls with natty and sharp clothes,
And Fairies all nice and clean
Dance and play by the light of the moon.
But soon daylight starts to break and we must leave
To sail back to reality.
So come with me on our next voyage where bad things never happen:
A place we call "The Land of Dreams".
- Devon Roark, age 11
Are Aliens Real?
Do aliens live in the universe
Or are they just a legend or curse?
Do they really have big space crafts
Or are they just junk and scraps?
Do you really leave signals behind
Or is it the work of human kind?
Do they have really big eyes
Or is it someone in a disguise?
What language do they speak? We don't know.
Do they run around or are they really slow?
Do they have a nose and things like that
Or do they only have eyes and a head, fairly fat?
These are the questions that puzzle us most,
From city to city and coast to coast.
Maybe someday the aliens will come.
I hope I can meet them first, one by one.
- Dylan Buijk, age 10, Ontario, Canada.
Clipboard Cut
Clipboard so helpful
Clipboard so nice.
Clipboard so pretty
Clipboard------oouch!
I don't like you clipboard - you gave me
a clipboard cut!!!
I still love you!!
- Lauren LaFever, age 9
Did Shot Shoot Not?
Did Shot shoot not?
Or did Not shoot Shot?
Well, I think Shot shot Not.
Because, Shot shot Not?
I do not know why!
But, then Shot shot Not.
And then Not Shot Shot.
Not did knot shoot Shot.
But Shot shot Not.
- Kelsi Hammers, age 8 1/2
A Cloud Poem
Clouds look like big castles.
Clouds are newborn bunnies just beyond the meadow.
Clouds are horses galloping through pastures and barnyards.
Clouds are unicorns, the horse's close cousin.
Clouds are never ending, winding roads with horse and buggy on them.
Clouds are the color of the sheets on my bed.
Clouds are big, fluffy marshmallows roasting in the sky.
And last but not least clouds are white fluffy pillows
blowing back and forth through the autumn trees.
- Bryce Park, age 10, Pennsylvania
My Face
On one part of my face is cardinal red,
As I bubble and foam over with energy and tease,
Like a flea, as I jump from place to place.
I never stay still long enough to get in trouble.
However, the undertone of it all is a dim
And faded blue.
More mysterious than the dark side of the moon.
With a hidden, depressed panic
As stress edges it way up ready
To pounce the loathful procrastinator.
While shyness and fear hold the face
together.
Two tones, one face, ME.
- Linda Atwood
Spring Rain
I went into the valley and ate sugar cane
It was so sweet. Then I played under a sheet
I picked 99 flowers for hours and hours
It was spring and then the wet thing came
And God called it Spring Rain
- Cidney Hemingway, age 11
Grandfather Mike
Why I write this poem, I do not know
I sit ready to burst with fear
I feel a hand
Cold
But trusting
I know my grandfather is here
- Cidney Hemingway, age 11
(Grandfather Mike died over 20 years ago)
Liver
Liver, liver, how I hate thou,
I’d rather eat a bloody cow.
Next to you homework is fun,
I wouldn't touch you for gold, five tons,
Or even fifty cinnamon buns.
Liver, liver you are bad,
You've made me go positively mad.
I hate you as skunks smell bad,
Though of you I've never had.
- David Horstman, age 9
The Bee
I see,
a bee,
in a key,
that has to pee.
Larrisa, age 12
That Sinking Sensation
Papa saw a movie
About a very big boat
The safest ship ever launched
It would always stay afloat
Well it hit an arctic ice cube
Of the somewhat large variety
And promptly went to the bottom
With the cream of high society
But there were a few survivors
Including a pretty young gal
Who had a fling on B Deck
With a starving artist pal
But he didn't make it
So she pined away for years
Until she returns to the site
And through a veil of tears
She drops a diamond overboard
Why I'll never know
Except when you get that old
Your mind just starts to go
Then she returns to her cabin's bunk
And there she passes away
And her spirit joins her lover's ghost
And the band begins to play
And some girl sings the movie's theme
And the credits begin to roll
And Nana needs some Kleenex
And Papa heads for the bowl
(It was a long movie)
- By Papa (Keith Herrington)
Perfect Miniature
(a poem for Rion)
I've a perfect miniature in my arms
Using all his wily charms
His smile could melt the hardest of hearts
Even in my tiredness I have to laugh
Awake in the early hours of the morning
Watching as the sun is dawning
My perfect miniature's chuckling again
A sound I've not heard since I don't remember when
I wish everyone the chance to feel
The love a baby brings is very real
His chubby cheeks and sparkling eyes
I hope they never need a tear to cry
My perfect miniature's awake again
Even though it's late again
So I'll snuggle and I'll sing to him
And relish in the joy that he brings.
- Tammy Gard, adult
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