Where my imagination goes wild…
My dreams come true every night
In my imagination roses are gold
With purple dots
In my imagination roads are
Mushy and in the sky
In my imagination you can run wild
And let your thoughts flow
In my imagination I jump and skip
To every garden and smell every
Gold with purple dot rose
(They all have a special smell)
In my imagination I catch butterflies
And make a wish
In my imagination I taste a very taste of grass
Some are sweet and some are sour
But no matter what
My imagination is a fun place to be
Darkness, black, specks of light, swim
By Caroline, age 9
closer, light in the city of dreams,
population, fish, buildings, coral, shock,
flash, a fish beside me, he was slightly
transparent, flew into me, and I came to
be a fish, he flew out, I was human so I
called him Mistia, I gave him that name
because it was by that name he was
known on the streets and in the houses
of that magical city, no air, must breathe,
and he flew into me again to forever stay.
(photo by Stuck in Customs via flickr)
video = 53 seconds
When I write,
I use my heart.
I listen to my soul-mind.
I use my hands,
and touch the tip of the pencil.
I write words.
I imagine things I want to do.
I can write a story.
I listen to myself.
I feel free.
By Nathan, age 8
(photo by Alexander De Block via flickr)
I am a snake slinking in the sky.
I am the blazing yellow of the sun.
I am a soldier wanting peace.
I am a time line traveling
in the night before dawn.
I am the spiky vine of a plant.
I am a shining pearl in a rough clam.
By Cecily, age 9
I am an electric guitar rumbling again.
I am the Milky Way in the world’s well.
[painting by Marketseq via Flickr]