April and May Poems

Grass
Joelle
Age 10

I start out tiny, As small as a drop of dew, In the ground so tiny, so tiny. But then I break out of the jailbars holding me in. I grow, and grow, Untill I see, Could it be? God, shining down on my family? I grow, so green, I bend down, And look at the comfy, And brown, Place that I broke out of jail.

Fall
Joelle
Age 10

The leaves change colors The air becomes chilly too Everything changes

Ants Beware
Alice
Age 9

Please ants be careful, all these feet around, they don't know what there doing, as they spin around, I know you are innocent, all these giants around, oh please ants beware, you could be squashed anywere.

I'm Glad I'm Me
Mahnoor
Age 12

I'm glad I'm me, There's no one else I want to be. I'm happy I'm the person who Can do the things that I can do. If I were someone else, then I Would feel so strange, I'd wonder why. I'm positive that I'd be sad But I am me, and I am glad

The City That Never Sleeps
Katrina
Age 13

You're exotic. People walk by and stare. Step out of the metro; onto flat, slick, burning cement. I\'m overwhelmed by; Flashing lights, endless roads, tremendous buildings. Beeping horns, homeless people, advertisements. Look around and smile, I feel like a little kid in a candy store. You smell of burning rubber and cooking food, I miss that smell. Your immense buidings, tower above my head. They smile and wave, inviting me in. All of your stores are lined up along the side of the road; glowing, sparkling, neon signs. The lights as bright as a supernova. Two for the price of one screaming; buy me! Candy, clothing, knock-offs, food. Phones ringing, people talking, fast walking. Chewed gum, spit out onto your sidewalks. melted in, no longer stretchy. Pigeons clean your roads of trash. Need a ride? Taxi Cabs honk, stop, turn, speed, they roam the cluttered road. Crowds skid by, in green lights. Dare devils sprint, in red lights. Everyone is careful, careful not to get smooshed, like spit out gum. Oh, City, I love the sound of my feet thudding against the ground, like the beat of a racing heart. I love how my shoulder fits right into the walls of your buildings When I need to stop and think for a while. I love that I know it won't be long, until I return to you.

My Teacher
Julia
Age 9

My teacher is nice also my teacher is kind she helps me and helps me oh she's so nice! I just love her she is obviously the best! She has two daughters they're just sweet and kind too! Oh I love my teacher, i'm pretty sure i don't want to move up to fourth grade! I hate to have to say goodybye but at least i'm still in the same grade for now! :) I love you Mrs.Gresser i'll miss you in fourth grade!!!!


April and May Short Stories

Eyes All Around
Priscilla
Age 14

My family and I all have different shaped and colored eyes To start off with, my dad’s eyes are as small as raisins with a hint of brown hazelnut His eyes, always tired when coming home from work Yet, happy to see his family My mom’s eyes are the complete opposite Her eyes are large light brown circles Always looking out for her children like a bear looking out for her cubs My eldest sister Angelica has hazel medium sized eyes. Her eyes are full of creativity and so clear you can see right through them Then comes Rocio, my second oldest sister She, like my dad has puny light brown eyes Her eyes full of wisdom and caring traits Diana’s big round eyes speak like the leaves on the auburn trees in fall Always cracking jokes out of nothing She’s the clown in the family I inherited my big eyes form my mom My eyes are a different kind of brown The brown you see on chocolate Hershey kisses and the sweet honey You see from the bottle, combined together It’s a unique yet rare type of brown These eyes are filled with curiosity towards the world Full of wonder and dreams In the hope of everything turning out okay My youngest sister Daisy has big dark brown eyes the color of licorice. The candy that no one likes My niece, my niece Karina has big, brown, gorgeous eyes The size of the world Her eyes carry an amazing shade of brown too special to put in words Her eyes tell us many things without her having to say a single word Those eyes that shine so brightly; packed with humor, knowledge, curiosity, and silliness Is what turns my day around Her eyes, the ones that make me smile whenever, wherever, and everyday

One London Night
Amber
Age 13

It was a foggy London night in 1830. As homeless beggars shivered on the cobblestone streets and a thin cloud veiled the moon, a little boy dressed in tattered rags walked up to the wrought-iron gate of Debtor’s Prison. His dirty, pitiful face looked ghostly in the moonlight as he sadly peered through the bars of the gate. It would have melted even the coldest of hearts to have seen him standing there on that frigid, foggy evening, miserable and scared. “Da? Are you there?” his small voice echoed in the dark. “Why did they take you away?” He knew nothing of taxes and rent, of laws that had men sent to prison because they were poor. “Da? Where are you?” He gripped the gate in distress, his thin body shivering pathetically in the crisp night air. “Ma said we should always stay together!” The boy began sobbing and collapsed in a heap, beating the ground with his little fists. After a while, the little boy closed his eyes and slept. Little did he know that on the second floor of Debtor’s Prison, in a rank, dirty cell, a rugged, bearded man was sitting on the floor with tears streaming down his face. He looked up at the moldy ceiling with reverence. “Keep my little Jimmy safe,” he whispered. Then, he collapsed on the floor and began helplessly beating the floor with his huge fists. Soon, he settled into a feverish, uneasy sleep. The night watchman, making his usual rounds, paused at the barred door to the prisoner’s cell. He watched the prisoner for a moment in silence-hands tightly curled into fists, dried tears on his ruddy face. It was such a pitiful sight. The watchman shook his head, thinking of his family at home, and of this job that payed barely enough to keep a roof over their heads. Then, he sighed and moved on to the next prisoner’s cell. In the morning, Londoners would go about their lives as they always had. The sun would rise over the Thames as it always would. But as the imprisoned father and his lonely son longed for each other, they knew their lives would never again be the same.