The Snow Dethroned by Madison Levinson

Today is the last day before Spring Break and the weather has begun to get warmer and nicer. The last time I had a blog post it was a snow day and I wrote a poem about snow. Now that it's Spring, and my favorite season, I think I should write a poem again.

The sun peeks from behind the cloud.
People gather outside and form crowd after crowd.

"Colors spring in tufts from the ground" 

Flowers beginning to bloom.
Thoughts of warm weather in my mind consume.
The rabbits hop and the bears come out.
On no persons face was there a pout.
Colors spring in tufts from the ground.
The white beast of snow has been uncrowned.
Sports begin and referee whistles blow.
Kids dance and laugh in fields to and fro.
No snowflakes dancing and twirling.
Flower petals in the air and swirling.
No early morning snow day calls.
No more wind or icy slips and falls.
Spring has started to bloom all around.
My will to explore and have fun has now been found.

Easter Traditions Poem By: Caroline Kepler

A holiday on a different Sunday every year

Easter is celebrated every spring

It always fills my family with cheer

And we have traditions for everything

Every year my family gathers together,

Easter baskets are opened in the morn

We all get to enjoy the warm weather

At Easter time there is nothing to mourn

Colorful eggs are laid across the lawn

My cousins and I race to collect them

It could be pouring rain, yet we would run-on,

Collecting eggs that are filled with gems

When the egg hunt is done we all sit down to a feast

The meal just gets better every year to say the least

  

Shakespearean Sonnet By Matt Dumbroff

Seeing as we have just begun learning about Shakespeare, and his many works I thought it appropriate to write a sonnet in iambic pentameter just like that of Shakespeare's, using some of his most famous lines in an attempt to emulate his work.

Against the stormy gusts of winter’s day

I tell the day, to please him, thou art bright

And in mine own love’s strength seem to decay

Yet doth it steal sweet hours from love’s delight

Toward thee I’ll run, and give him leave to go

In so profound abysm I throw all care

That you yourself, being extant, well might show

If Time have any wrinkle graven there

If my dear love were but the child of state

Incapable of more, replete with you

Thus policy in love, t’anticipate

And I by this will be a gainer too

Her audit, though delay’d, answer’d must be

Without accusing you of  injury

.

The Rain (By Eve Curras)

     We sat in the car, my clothes soaked to the skin, beads of water dripping down my forehead.  My mother and I had just raced against the rain, and as always, the rain had won.  It was just the two of us now, the only sound was that of the struggling heater and the pitter patter of droplets on the windshield.  I remarked how the rain was depressing.  My mother turned to me, saying "You shouldn't ever say that.  It will melt the snow."  And I found myself thinking hard about what she said, so I decided to write a poem about it.

The Rain

The promise of the first snowfall

Cold, white water brings the enchantment of Christmas time

But soon cold water is simply cold

And snow becomes vexatious

Pounds of white to be shoveled, not cherished

And winter is bitter, like a foul taste on your tongue

But April brings the rain

Winter wonderland becomes a distasteful memory

And only gloom remains

But with the rain comes the promise of green

And eventually the snow is gone, like all things

A breath of warmth is blown

Flowers take their shape among the growing grass

The sun dances across the pavements

Jackets are forgotten, boots left behind

The promise of rebirth hums in the air

So I thank the rain

For the fresh starts, a time of new beginnings

And for melting the snow

A Poem About Snow by Madison Levinson

As I was deciding what to post for my blog post I had a realization. I have never written anything creative and meaningful. My only blog posts are wildly sarcastic, opinionated, and full of rants. So I made the decision to write a hopefully wonderfully delightful poem. Considering I am sitting in bed on a snow day writing this it seems fitting to make the poem about snow. So here I go...look I'm a poet and I didn't even know it! (Sorry, I'll stop now). 

Actual picture of my backyard

Fragile and white.
Tears from Angels that fall in the night.
Dancing and twirling to the ground.
Landing on rooftops without a single sound.
Crisp and cool.
A prime suspect in the possible cancellation of school.
Small white ballerinas falling to the floor.
Building and building until I can't open my door.
Snowmen and sled tracks litter the street.
Without hot cocoa this day would not be complete.
Hearing the sound of the children playing.
Maybe there will be no school I wind up praying.
Repeatedly checking the Woroworld Blog.
Just wanting to spend the next day in bed eating like a hog.
Watching the accumulation on Weather.com climb.
Oh, a relaxing day at home, what a wonderful time.
Warmed by the fire, watching the flakes fall.
Waiting anxiously by the phone for the school to call.
That wonderful "All Sparta Schools will be closed tomorrow"
And in no students heart was there an ounce of sorrow.

She is Scared by Chloe Caldi

She is Scared

Parents fear the day
The day their child comes home
And is no longer a child
She is big
She is strong
She is independent
But she is still scared

She is smart
She is friendly
She is beautiful
But she is still scared

She sings loudly
She dances often
She laughs constantly
But she is still scared

She hides it the best she can
Not many can see
Her insecurity
Her lack of self worth
Because she is still scared

She doesn't know
That I can see this in her
But I do
And I understand
Because I am scared too

Friendship Poem By: Caroline Kepler

One of the over arching themes in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein is how loneliness and lack of having someone to support you can lead to a decline a person’s decisions and personality. So I decided to write a poem about friendships and having someone who will stand by you.

You will meet hundreds of people in your life

Yet only a few special ones will stay by your side

They will be with you through all your strife

Their presence will make your life a joyride

These people will make you laugh when you feel like crying

And are people who you can’t stay mad at

They will have fun with whatever plans you may be trying

And will deal with you sometimes being a brat

Friendships like these go both ways

You’ll be with them through all of life’s stages

When everyone else leaves, you’ll be the one who stays

Because unlike you, your friendship never ages

Cherish friendships like these all the time

And hope that they’re strong enough to last a lifetime

Stories Are A Journey by Juleanna Green

Stories are a journey;

A journey for the mind, a journey for the soul

They make you feel

They make you dream

Stories are a journey;

A journey for you, a journey for your life

They teach you

They shape you

Stories are a journey;

The journey of a character, a journey of a hero

They break them

They rebuild them

Stories are a journey;

A journey of hope, a journey of love

They inspire us

They remain with us

Stories are a journey;

A journey of sorrow, a journey of heartbreak

They make you long for people you’ve never met

They make you long for places you’ve never been

Stories are a journey;

Although you may never have lived them

They are there

And they always will be

Through thick and thin,

Through good and bad

And so will you

The Week Before Break by Sarah West

The air is cold, the festive lights shine bright,

people smile and laugh all through the night,

yet as the children frolic in the fresh snow,

we are stuck inside, in our homes.

Although we'd love to join in the fun,

there is just too much work that needs to be done.

Instead of holiday cookies, we make study guides,

And instead of carols we memorize formulas and outlines.

We work on projects instead of watching classic movies,

instead of spending time with family we must fulfill our duties.

As students, we always put school work first,

even when the constant stress over grades is the worst.

So still we continue to study late as all of the teachers cram

as many tests into the week before break as they can.

We don't even get to slow down during the best time of the year,

when we should be enjoying all of the holiday cheer.

English Class: A Poem by Kamryn Foster

Writing and reading; reading and writing.
Filled with kids who have a passion and are finding.
Others who think the same way they do,
Who are not mathematically inclined, the studies say it's true.

Supposedly we're taught to take a test and get the answer right,
But to this system I will forever fight.
Let the kids be creative and express themselves, I'll say
And the Board'll say no and keep the subject at bay.

English is the class where you can actually think for once
And in this room you won't hear grunts
For we all enjoy the period where you can be yourself
And let your creativity show - so go ahead and grab a book off a shelf.