The Sun

Posted August 3, 2011 & filed under Notebook.

The sun is bright.

It’s the brightest thing

in the sky.  It stays up

all day, but not at night.

It whispers to us, and

when it is going away,

it thuds its way home.

By Faraz, 3rd grade


Posted April 15, 2010 & filed under Poem of the Day.

I whisper to my mom.
I whisper to her about space.
I say that there are eight planets.
I tell her that there are stars.
I say there are galaxies.
I tell her that I like space.
My mom tells me
that she likes space too.

By Aneesh, 3rd grade
[photo by NASAJPL via flickr]

Originally published February 17, 2010.

apad2This poem is featured as part of the 2009 A Poem A Day campaign, a National Poetry Month celebration by WITS that features a different poem by a WITS student every day during April. Click on the logo to the left to learn more.

A New Poet

Posted July 28, 2009 & filed under Notebook.


Finding a new poet
is like finding a new solar system
out in the galaxies

you don’t see its name in the solar system books
and nobody you tell believes
in its odd color or the way its cliffs go.

By Kendall, 4th grade
[photo by th3qh05t via flickr]

I Wish I Could Go into Space

Posted July 24, 2008 & filed under Notebook.

I wish I could drop into a book and see
everything like everyday life.
I would love to catch a ride on the North Star
and flow through the Milky Way
and lead Orion through the night
as it sleeps in the morning and dances
through the dark, as planets swirl around the sun.

by Javier, 3rd grade
[photo from the NASA website]

Silly Things

Posted April 25, 2008 & filed under Poem of the Day.

If I’m bored at night I go out
to try and catch a shooting star.
I fly up into space like a rocket ship
and stick my tongue out
googolplex feet until I reach
the star belt and find a shooting star to eat.

When I slip in mud at school
I fly into space to use twilight
to clean it up. I carry a hat
and go to the moon. I see twilight
and fill my hat and put it on my head.
I am not done. I need the moon’s towel.
I get it dry like paper and stiff as wood.

If I had a smart hen
I would teach it to be my secretary.
It would answer my phone calls
and take messages while I am out.
I would not pay this creature because without
me it will be nothing
in space.

By Eleanor, age 9

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