A gift from the heavens fell from the sky.
I watched it settle down before the horizon.
A bright glow settled on the lion from the sky.
I saw the green pines bow before the stunning proud lion.
I saw all the birds sing and bow to the mighty lion as he boldly walked by.
Then I saw the hedgehogs come out of their winter sleep and bow their 
Little spinney heads as the lion walked into the wood ahead.

 
Spring feels like the warm beginning of a year.
It is sweet smelling and always cheers you up.
Butterflies fly all around in your garden.
It always warms my heart when I go outside and play.
Spring smells like a rainforest and sounds like a soft waterfall.
Spring is like a soft sweet welcoming to many animals.
Spring is like a warm greeting to the year.
Spring is like a welcoming to many plants.
Spring tells you to come outside and play in the sun.
Other times it tells you to come outside and play in the rain and puddles.
Sweet Spring!
 

They make me glad when I’m sad.

But when I get old, ferrets are going to get sold

Because someone is going to buy one for me.

My mom and me have a deal: 

When I’m 20 she’ll buy me a ferret that is REAL!

Why wait till 20?

Mom says they stink plenty!

the red panda
sleeps quietly
in a tall tree
looking like
a raccoon

Poems are cool

don’t ask me why

you need to write one

you need to try.

Here’s a long list

about poems

      fun

silly

      sweet

beautiful

      just plain awesome.

Now write a poem

just trust me

I’m not lying.

The plink, plink, plink on the roof;
A storm is coming.
The rain begins to pour down,
First lightning, then thunder. 
She looks out the window,
Sheets of water are pouring over the edges of the barn.
She huddles next to the fire with her bear.
Lightning flashes
She runs to her bed and hides under the covers.
More lightning flashes and lights up the room.
She runs to her mother.
Safe now, she sleeps.

The burning heat entices me,
drawing me to the depths.
In the fiery breath I sit,
and await the coming of the end.
As it slowly spreads,
I watch without fear,
awaiting the end.
The burning heat entices me,
drawing me to the depths.
In the fiery breath I sit,
and listen to the crackling
of the flickering smoking devil.
I watch as the memories disappear,
and I remember the times of joy,
as I sat and watched the stars.
As the fire slowly spreads,
I watch without fear, 
awaiting the end.
The burning heat entices me,
drawing me to the depths.
In the fiery breath I sit.
As I watch in silence,
and the memories grow dim,
I think of all the times I spent,
listening to the wind.
All the times I sat and waited 
for the end of the storm.
Now they slip away,
and I watch my house burn.
But I watch without fear
awaiting the end.

The love I cook up is special
Always a treat, like candy
Always tasty, like fruit
To me, everyday
Is always a Saturday
 
So, Whaddya say?
Let’s go out to town
After the storm
Take a slab of gum
Blow it up
And let the curiosity grow
 
See the puddle?
Can you see the hope of a bright future?
Dry up your tears
No, they are already gone
See?
 
The candy you can dream of 
Is right here
Come on
Stuff it in your mouth!
Say goodbye to the depressing Monday
 
Our worries have jam spread on them
But we should just lick it off!
There!
It’s the perfect recipe for “HAPPY”!

On that stormy night
We had an unexpected guest.
The wind was blowing with all it’s might
The rain was pouring with zest
We heard a voice in the rain
“Let me in! Let me in, I say.”
We let him in, we are all the same
He could wait out the storm, then be on his way
He wore a black cloak,
With a tunic of gold.
When he was dry, he spoke
Of beautiful ladies and knights that were bold.
As he left, he thanked us for his newfound happiness
But even to this day, he remains mysterious.

Do you hear faint laughter?
Well I don’t and you shouldn’t either,
laughter, as happy as a child at Christmas time,
lovely, and smells of cinnamon.
But there is no laughter, and
you do not hear it.

I am an athletic, sensitive guy.

      I wonder if I will ever be engaged.

            I hear stadiums full of people yelling my name.

            I want a scholarship to California State collage.

                  I am an athletic, sensitive guy.

      I pretend to be tennis pro.

      I feel I am free to do what ever I want.

      I touch my tennis racket every time I think about it

      I worry that I won’t be accepted.

      I cry when I think of a life without my brother.

I am an athletic, sensitive guy.

     I understand that life is hard.

      I say one day me and my grandmother will be reunited at once.

      I dream of fighting off knights with tennis rackets.

      I try to believe I am the best I can be.

      I hope to be famous one day.

                                   I am an athletic, sensitive guy.

In the darkened dining room,
In the middle of the light,
Stood a tall round pillar,
With a wick as black as night.
The burning flame upon the wick
Shone a mystic blue,
And orange also in the flame
Gave the light a vivid hue.
The wax was slowly melting
Beneath the flame so warm
It dripped over the edge and hardened
Into a grotesque and eerie form.
A breath of wind blows out the candle –
The smoke floating like gray thread,
Blown out with no more light,
To light the creaking stairs to bed.

The walkway leads to a ditch 
On the side of the road.
In a dirty corner a twitch
Of a rabbit barely showed.
It shivered in the cold, cold
Autumn breeze on the brink 
Of a winter gust of gold, 
Copper and zinc.
The rabbit was young 
Once, and remembered the days
When the bluebird’s songs rung
Through the sun’s warm rays.
And the old woman would 
Feed him scrapes of bread
While he slept in her hood,
Serving as a comforting bed.
When the first frost came 
The old woman departed 
To a place with a different name,
To a place with no snow.
The rabbit was left 
Alone with nowhere to go. 
He went and curled up, bereft
Of his queen and filled with woe.
He struggled through 
Winter, finding hardly any food and 
Water. But the rabbit soon grew 
To live harmoniously with the land.
And in the spring he found the old woman caring 
For another rabbit and he decided
That he didn’t need her sharing 
Any more. And with that his yearning subsided. 
He was content.

Why, God, Why?
Do angels sing for some
And demons play strings of others
Why, God, Why?
Is love the tourniquet to pain
But the door to rejection
Why, God, Why?
Do prodigies reign supreme
And the rest are disregarded
Why, God, Why?
Is nightfall the breeding of monstrosity
But dreams the gate to paradise
Why, God, Why?
Is violence the fallback of confusion
But the peace treaty, as well 
Why, God, Why?
Do lies coarse within our veins
And sins rage like disease 
Why, God, Why?
Is death the answer for torture
But feared, all the same
Why, God, Why?

Since the day we met,
Echoing beauty,
Through the lands,
And through the trees,
Through the rivers,
Were your tears,
Drinking some water,
Were some deer,
Through the mountains,
Were your eyes,
Beautiful gold,
I cannot say good-bye,
Through the lands,
Was your hair,
All the grass,
That we share,
Through the trees,
Beautiful birds,
Wonderful voices,
From what I heard,
Through the waterfall,
As I can see,
Was a beautiful woman,
You with me.

I am sorry I did not show
You how I felt that day
But I did not know 
Forever you should lay
Among the grass
Along the trees
But please
Know I will always love
How much time I spent with you
But now you travel up above 
I will never hear you say I love you too
I will no longer pace 
Knowing your in a better place.

The rosebushes crawl over the plain
choking the weary earth
as the runners press on.
The thorns chuckle at the contestants’ struggle,
leisurely calling their names, enticing them 
to rest. 
The sun majestically dies ahead,
setting an orange fire to the sky
while the last person struggles forward, still hoping.
He hears not the laughter
nor heeds the ending day,
for his eyes are focused on the horizon,
and the thorns can only tear his flesh.
He stumbles often, but never falls. 

Mad, sad, angry and upset.
You think this is something I’ll regret.
This is me breaking the line and cutting the cord,
This relationship was a bore.
You’re smothering me, making it so I can’t see.
I liked you so much before,
But now these feelings are no more.
You always say “what’s wrong baby?”
But maybe the problem is you.
You tore my heart right out of my chest.
Can you please put it back before you break the rest?
I don’t want to be without a full heart,
So let me now, this moment, prepare for a new start.
Without you.

— Andrea F, Age 16.






The Untamed Acre 


I.
There are no cherries here, just flat blossoms 
I would tuck into nests of cut grass, and sit 
with hands stained earthy tones, waiting for birds 
to land in the branches of my cherry tree.

II.
My father used to drive his red ride-on mower
through the wispy brown grass and wild raspberries.
Beyond them were sparking wires I was forbidden to touch,
so instead I stood and watched the horses whinny.

III.
The two oaks behind the house grew so close. Their roots 
must have fallen together in the moist earth one summer,  
and slept for all the quiet, frozen years, only watching and 
waiting for birds to land in their entwined branches.


— Colleen Damerell, Age 16.






Daddy. 


I have never felt such loss and abandonment
Than when what was brought to me on June Second
Deceived and truth less, I needed a vent
To release my pain and anger at your absence
Why didn’t you want me? Why did you leave?
Why did you throw out mom’s pictures of me?
I was so young and helpless yet you felt such hate
I carry that now, you’ve created my fate
I’ve lost so much love that I had in my heart
At one time I was hopeful, now I’m torn apart
I feel the security breaking loose in the ground below
My feet keep on slipping, through the white and cold snow
I thought it was summer, my thoughts sink to daze
Seventeen years without you, my soul has craved
At how careless you were, I hate you sometimes
The way you hurt mom
While she sleeps I cry
The pen and the paper seal my tears with a song
I hum it to myself all along you’ve been gone
They hid you from me
I’m lost in my plea
Find this broken heart and all the tears I have kept
On a trail for you to find what is left


— Joanne H., Age 17


 




A Tame Mind  


My mind wonders from its work,
      It travels to the far off lands,
Of mystical beasts and shiny knights
      On shiny steeds
My thoughts wander to burbling brooks,
      And lazy creeks
I seek out the mysteries of the world.
      Under every pebble, 
And every book covers
      I search for the universal truth,
That there is more to this world
      Than the coldness of math and 
The hard and unforgiving ways of science.
      I seek out the lands of dreams 
The lands of light and mystery
      I look for a world that does not
In reality, exist.

— Miranda Blank, Age 17.


 



Mr. Real Lies 

 
You’re so scatological 
And I’m, I’m just in denial
About everything you do
And everything you say 
Is just one big lie 
A second chance could be possible 
If it were back in ’06 
Your little lies might work
And I could be mesmerized
By your cute smile
And your dreamy eyes 
But we aren’t in 
A Michael J. Fox movie
Because when you look at me 
You repulse me
And I just can’t stand to be
Near you after you screwed up
I want to tell you something 
Special on this Valentines Day 
And it comes straight from my heart
So here you go 
Hear me well 
Loud and clear 
I hate you 
And I think you suck


— Kate LaPier, Age 17.


 

 

She’s So Pretty When She Falls 

 
Look how pretty she is when she falls down 
She's always falling down 
Scrapes all on her knees 
'cause when she falls she bleeds
and look at her mascara 
slipping down her cheeks 
sliding down with all her tears
oh look how pretty she is 
as the rain pours on her back 
and people watch her stumble 
no one tries to help 
no one wonders why she cries  
or why she's falling down 
but she keeps going 
never giving up 
'cause even if she falls back down 
she'll pick herself right up 
can't you see how pretty she is?


— Emily Palmer, Age 17. 


 

 








Untitled by Maggie MacAdam, Age 5. 








Superkid! by Eve Y., Age 5. 








Self-Portrait by Marie Coyle, Age 8. 





 


Fairy Summer Solastice Concert by Marie Coyle, Age 8. 








I Love My On-Line Pets by Veronica V, 4th Grade. 








The Titanic by Zachary James C., Age 10. 





 


Green-Eyed Lady by David F., Age 10. 





 


Wood-Fairy by Sophia Signorino, Age 10. 





 


Carousel Horse by Lauren Dean Rotunno, Age 11. 





 


Into the Moonlight by Mikayla B., Age 12. 





 


Johnny Depp by Danielle F., Age 12. 





 


Gyotaku — Ink on Rice Paper by Tommy Conners, Age 14. 






 


ometimes, I think I’ll Die Alone by Amanda Borelli, Age 17. 






	

Jack was wearing a hat.

Jack was chasing a bat.

He ran inside,

Because it was dry

And ran right into a rat.

Still. Blowing in the wind
Shivering on the bare branch
Waiting for the time to come.
Afraid to let go.
Others fall, they fly like 
the blue bird in the cloudy skies,
free to drift, free to be.
But sadness lurks in the mind.
Broken dreams stand still in thoughts.
Life shatters like glass on a window sill,
love drifting away.
The wind whistles its song and
birds sing the time to come.
Free, they seem to say.
It lets go as if to fly.
It drifts with grace to go where it goes, free
It sees a red bird pass by, wings spread 
flying with the wind, free. 
The leaf lands on the dew drop grass.
It comforts her like feather beds on a cozy night
And she thought, we may be afraid in night so dark but
in the face of love we stand. 

Trees those majestic giants standing tall and going
deep.  They stand through sun and rain, snow and
ice.  Giving shelter to all those smaller.  In the winter
keeping us warm with their branches aflame.
Calling and allowing animals to rest in their warm
bark, to sleep the winter away keeping out the winter
chill.

And  when spring comes, they give us color and
places for the little bird’s nest.  Allowing life to burst
		forth and helping it on

In the summer providing shade from the hot sun that 
bears down and a shelter from the cold rain that comes 
down.

In the fall giving up sweet fruit, so we can taste their 
Kindness and compassion, In the winter they begin the cycle 
again.  

Her Storm

her storm cries 

red candy 

for only on each 

spring butterfly 

swam a pink 

sun of light 

the only hope

See how dogs wag their tails,

When they're not happy they give out wails,

I have a dog myself,

She steals things off the toy shelf,

They don't mean to but they can make you mad,

They can also comfort you when you are sad,

They try to help you when they can,

No wonder their title is “Friend of Man”

As I ride my horse along the grain filled field, I wait for the strong winds to blow.
The creatures to which I owe so much,
gallop off into the woods for shelter.
No longer is it sunny and beautiful,
But it is damp and ready to pour.
No body is around to take this wonderful feeling away from me, No one to tell me I will get killed if I stay out here.
Sprinkles of water start coming down and hitting my face, how refreshing it is to feel the cool water on such a sun burnt day.
We rush up the mountain as high as we can go not daring to stop for any reasons.
The thunder roars and it scares the lovely beast, she knows it is time to get me to safety and out of the rain.
We arrive home soaking wet yet I owe my now warm, dry, living body all to this beautiful thing called a horse.

This firefighter rushes
as the firehorn does blaze.
Rushing to the scene,
it’s just a smokey haze.

After it’s all out,
he looks in disbelief 
one more ruined dream
one more burning leaf.

He stops to take
a look around
to find a faded picture
lying on the ground.

The small frame is burned,
and now the family’s life is churned.
He walks the street
Where he can escape the firey heat.

He finds the family shaking.
A tear rolls down each eye.
He hands them the picture
and says, “A memory will never die.”

Just because I’m rich
      I’m not selfish
      I’m not overly confident
      I’m not a snob

Just because I’m rich
      I don’t emphasize it
      I don’t gloat
      I don’t make fun of those who aren’t

Just because I’m rich
      I don’t degrade others
      I don’t intimidate others
      And I don’t categorize

Just because I’m rich-you aren’t poor

I lost my soul in a fit of anger. 
I guess nice is how it was supposed to be. 
Instead it became a cold dark danger-
A demon inside of me.
That day it became so dark and cold that 
it froze still in a pit. 
Then it broke down with the fire of
anger and that was the end of it.
So now my soul is gone-lost forever-
though it wasn’t in the physical to see. 
I don’t understand it or know where 
it was, but I’m missing it emotionally.
I no longer think and I no longer feel. 
I can’t interact or show expression. 
I’m no longer the same Happy me —
all thanks to my aggression. 

I sit and listen to the heart beats fade
As the thought of her having it made
And the sound of beeps is what's left 
Then the doctor pronounced her death
Upon her wish to move on
Once and when she's gone
Picture her floaty above me 
Her spirit screaming with glee
All the pain and sorrow is now gone
By the time it was dawn 
Freely she floats above me
Her spirit screaming with glee

Mysterious love I can not find,
Without your love I feel so blind.
People can be so unkind.

I depend on you to love me each and every day.
To love me and make me feel a special certain way.
There has to be something out there that’s better,
To make me feel loved forever. 

On certain days I just want to cry.
After a rainy day there is a rainbow in the sky.
The sun brightens and the flowers bloom,
Running water flows and my heart races too.

As the day goes on I wait and wait,
Never really knowing of my heart’s fate.
For you to come and rescue me.
Never really knowing what will or will not be.

I realize now that the mysterious love I seek, 
That I can not find is for the strong and the weak.
It really is the love that can not hide,
It is the love I feel for me inside.

Friends a plenty, maybe slightly popular
Her face has no blemish she can’t cure
Tickles the ivory everyday after school
No guy yet, but her sister’s had a few
Yells, a knife flashes, blood splattering 
In her head she sees it all happening
“Don’t go out with him,” she pleads 
But Sis just sneers “Don’t be jealous, jeez..” 

Not well publicized, only the select few
It’s a party going way past curfew 
She’s not invited, wouldn’t go anyway
Jessie, however, is counting down to the day
Bright lights, screams, struck forever blind 
It plays out on the screen in her mind
And she tries to warn Jessie about her fear
But the words just flutter in and out her ear 

Cell phone rings in the middle of the night
The numbers displayed in artificial light
She picks up the phone with a shaky hand
Already she hears the funeral band 
“Hello? I know… That’s it? Too late?” 
The doorbell rings, tears stream at her unfair fate
Car crash, Jessie proclaimed dead at the scene 
Downstairs, police state Sis murdered at nine fifteen 

She’s the cursed princess of the modern world
Always pushed aside and never heard 
The future’s clear, but they refuse to see
It’s Apollo’s gift of insanity
Visions, foresight; it is all in vain
She’s doomed to a life of constant pain
Hope and time can’t begin to heal
The regret she’ll always feel 

Watering the Garden by Bryn Condon, Kindergarten





Three Women by Marie Coyle, 1st grade





Me on a Page by Noah Camione, 3rd grade





Wind on the Sea by Hoebe Holmsten, grade 4





Kaplooie by Arianna Barry, 5th grade





Jungle by Mikayla Brennan-Burke, 5th grade





Majestic by Harlowe Root, 6th grade





Seagull's Prize by Abby Holmsten, 6th grade





Botanical Nuance by Tommy Conners, 8th grade





Soldiers by Alex Mortillaro, 8th grade





We the People by Austin Retzlaff, 9th grade