Another set of fine poems, from the 2nd hour class. Today’s poets are Jayda MacFarlane, Luke T., Kate Dahl, Savannah H., Alika Espe, Jordyn D., Quincy Jensen, and Trevor Olsen.
That House
by Jayda McFarlane
Quiet surrounds the stairs.
Creaky cupboards make you not eat.
The remote never reverse for you.
Father says fine, but she says stop.
You go up the not-so-slippery stairs
to get away, but you feel watched
every minute you are there.
400
By Luke T.
I set the blocks
And get settled in.
While I wait, I inspect the competition.
They all look calm and collected
While I’m nervous and shaking,
My veins full of adrenaline.
My teammates chant encouragement.
The gun goes off.
Big Blue Lake
By Kate Dahl
Big blue lake
Tall green trees
Endless sandy beach
Bright blue sky
Big yellow sun
I’m lying on the beach
Burning to a crisp
knowing it’ll turn
to a nice tan.
Peaceful days at the lake.
Bubbles
By Savanah H.
Some are big, but yet small
Full of color full of joy
Laughter surrounds them all
Little curious footsteps run around
Trying to catch them
Before they hit
The ground.
Wish
By Alika Espe
They all smile
As the candles
Are being
Blown out.
A smile
On her face
As they ask
What she wished for.
She will not tell.
For maybe the wish
Won’t come true.
I Miss
By Jordyn D
I miss going to see you
Going to your house
Smelling cookies in the air.
I miss playing cards and
Playing games outside
Your house. I miss
Helping plant flowers
With so many bright colors.
I miss holding your hand
And you giving me advice.
I will remember
Your last breath. Every
Now and then
I go to your gravestone
Remembering what we did.
I miss you every day.
The Trap
By Quincy Jensen
Milo
Sitting on a rock
Evening coming to an end
The tree still flourishing in the sunlight
He run up to the tree
The wind in his furry face
The smell of grilled brats
Lingers, does not fade.
A branch small and cut away
From the rest
Milo going out
The bending branch
Milo!
He falls
Pointed rocks underneath him
He struggles to stay on
The branch with just his front paws.
He twists
He falls.
And climbs down the tree trunk.
Safe from the trap.
It is Like This
By Trevor Olsen
There when the dawn opens
With the door to the stand
Just like the stand of jackpines
Surrounding it. The propone
Tank upon the platform
The heater warming
The windows, the fog
On the windows like frost
On the ground,
There is also the crunch
Of a branch as you watch
The doe and fawns play.
It is like this there, when
The time comes the balsam
And birch sway
Right when you’re getting
Ready to shoot.
It is like this there.