Silver

Posted April 1, 2014 & filed under Notebook.

You are the feeling of the moon’s
soft beams that light up the
starry night.
You are the sliver of silver arrow as it shoots
through the trees during the night, strung
from a hunter’s bow.
You are the silvery pearl forming
slowly inside a hard oyster’s shell.
The soft, sweet sound of the
viper’s silvery voice as it gurgles
and splashes along the riverbank.
You are the still-but-silver reflection of
the moon as it moves slowly across the sky,
bringing early dawn with it, smiling gently at
the earth, waking the birds and calling for
their songs.
by Ivy, 6th grade

 

 

Click the link above to listen to the poem read on KPFT radio by Abigail Dewlin, an 8th grader at Johnston Middle School For the Performing and Visual Arts in Houston. The background music is “Flowers in the Forest” by Mike Oldfield. Produced by Susan Phillips.

This poem is featured as part of the 2014 Poem A Day campaign, a National Poetry Month celebration by Writers in the Schools (WITS) that features a different poem by a WITS student every day during April. Click here to learn more.

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Original post published: December 25, 2013

Silver

Posted December 25, 2013 & filed under Notebook.

You are the feeling of the moon’s
soft beams that light up the
starry night.
You are the sliver of silver arrow as it shoots
through the trees during the night, strung
from a hunter’s bow.
You are the silvery pearl forming
slowly inside a hard oyster’s shell.
The soft, sweet sound of the
viper’s silvery voice as it gurgles
and splashes along the riverbank.
You are the still-but-silver reflection of
the moon as it moves slowly across the sky,
bringing early dawn with it, smiling gently at
the earth, waking the birds and calling for
their songs.

by Ivy, 6th grade

The Moon Rises

Posted March 2, 2011 & filed under Notebook.

 

When the moon rises,
apples and pears start dancing,
and the spaghetti cries because it misses its sauce.

When the moon rises,
my stuffed bear dances with the puppy.
Then they all start dancing.
The blinds start moving and
singing.

When the moon rises,
the couches and chairs
talk to my mom as she cleans.

When the moon rises,
my pet bird, Pumpkin,
talks to my dad.
He also barks.
Then the T.V. falls asleep.
And snores.

When the moon rises,
the chairs and the swing
dance to the music
the trees make when the wind blows their branches.

When the moon rises,
the crows fly in the window of my tree house,
and they peck at the wooden wall
like woodpeckers looking for worms.

When the moon rises,
the Christmas ornaments
decorate the attic
when no one is looking.

When the moon rises,
the powders and lipstick
wake up the mirror.

But when the sun rises,
the lights flash,
and the day begins
all over again.

By Madison, 2nd grade

Photo by the National Archives UK via Flickr

Ode to Stars

Posted September 30, 2010 & filed under Notebook.

 

As I look up at the stars,

I see the moon, Venus and Mars.

The stars start to cover the land,

I want to hold one in my hand.

As they lift me off the ground

They spin me up down and around.

As they return me to my house

They’re as quiet as a mouse.

But as I stop in shock and fright,

I think that tonight was the best night.

By Jaklyn, 4th Grade

Midnight Blue-Green

Posted May 17, 2010 & filed under Notebook.

I went to the cemetery.
I went with my midnight blue-green bag.
In the bag, I had my notebook
and I sat down and started writing
a letter that meant so much to me.
Like a treasure, I buried it
so deep in the earth
no one would find it.
My dog Lila started to talk —
she was saying something about
the moon. Lila flew up
to the moon, and I went too.
It was dark blue
and we sat on the moon.
The moon was so big
it was changing colors
and it said my name.

By Mayra, 4th grade
[photo by candleshore via flickr]

The Moon and Stars

Posted March 5, 2010 & filed under Notebook.

I am a little girl
who lives in the sky.
My mom has a lot of children.
I am one of them.
I have many sisters and brothers.
My mom is the moon,
and we are the stars.
My dad died
so my mom has to watch
2,586,259 children.
My mom has to have
a big tub
for all of us to take a bath
one by one.
She has to read to all of us
and recites the words
over and over.
She gets tired.

By Precious, 3rd grade
[photo by Hikuchera via flickr]

The Time of Green Moons

Posted October 8, 2009 & filed under Notebook.

In a world of green moons
I see a bell made of bubbles
I hear the hiss of snow and
I feel happy.
My mind sounds like fish.
I swallow millions of bones
that taste like red tigers.
Fire eyes float around and
rabbits gulp bowls of
twisted starfish.
It sounds scary but it’s not.
It’s like a wave of poems,
and I think I will stay here
forever or until it rains rocks.

By Jacob, 9 years old
[art by Shellie Mitchell, uploaded via flickr]

Moon

Posted March 10, 2009 & filed under Notebook.

The moon is like a cookie in the sky.
The holes in the moon
are like the holes in the pencil sharpener.
The moon is up in the sky, so high.

By Lauren, 3rd grade
[photo by jalalspages via flickr]

Moon

Posted February 12, 2008 & filed under Notebook.

When I was little I thought that the moon was my guide to the world. At night, I would always look up at the night-blue sky and see the moon shining back down on us. I believed that the moon could look down on me and tell me if we humans were committing sins. I always thought that I had the power to see the moon’s face and that I could tell whether she was happy or not. It seemed that every time I looked up though, I saw a melancholy look on her face. Now I know that it has to do with the gravitational pull and stuff like that. But sometimes, even now, I still think that if we stop committing these horrible crimes for just one minute, she’ll show us her other face.

by Vanessa, 7th Grade

amber-moon-by-il-paolino-via-flickr.jpg

(photo by il paolino via flickr)