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Tumble
Fast green rocks
and an open road ahead,
it’s peaceful on the ground.
Now I’m in the air.
It’s also peaceful in the air,
flying five feet in the air.
BAM! I hit the ground.
I tumble, laying like a rug.
I pick up my dirt bike.
My friend sees a cut in my pants.
I peer through to notice
a gash as red as a shot dove.
by Payton
Sadness
When my sister’s friend died,
It was horrible,
A car accident, a senseless tragedy,
Sadness hung in the air
like a sandbag ready to spill,
My sister stood, crestfallen,
in silent disbelief,
People sobbed, crying all around me,
At the end of the day,
my sister at his grave
like a bear that lost her cub,
She was alone and quiet.
The end.
By J.D. |
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The Great Winter
I walk through the snow as deer pass.
The peaceful sight like
the warmth of hot cocoa
on a cold day.
Making my way home,
I cringe at the howling wind.
The cracking of tree limbs
like a crackling fire.
It begins to snow and it goes.
When it comes back again
I will be older,
And I will walk with it again.
By Matthew M.
Turning to Night
When day turns to night,
Bird chirps, like the squeak of a mouse,
Are replaced by the cricket lilting in the brush.
Every time it goes quiet
It’s like you’re alone in a dark room,
Until you hear the faint sound of a creek rushing.
You can almost smell the cool air and feel the soil,
Soft as sand in your hands,
Until the darkness of sleep falls upon you.
by Michael |
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At Night
At night it is as dark as the abyss but yet so full of life.
Stars, little diamonds of the sky and the moon
an all-seeing eye in a world of darkness and beauty.
I taste the smooth deliciousness of the apple in my hand.
I feel the cold night air like a blast from the Arctic tundra.
Crickets, like little musicians, chirp as if they have not a care in the
world.
The trees gently sway in the breeze like a group of giants dancing to the
cricket’s song.
Then, all too soon, it is time to go.
By Jeff
Fire
red inferno
devouring everything,
leaving nothing,
fire makes life begin.
it makes it end.
a terrible monster
burns through time.
can you feel it coming from behind?
heat
the flame licking its prey
fire.
by Matthew B. |
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