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The poems posted below were written by kids. Send me a poem you've written and I might post it here. Make sure your parent or guardian knows you are sending it. For privacy reasons, I will not print your last name--but you'll know who you are! Teachers, I would love to share your classroom's poetry.

From Amanda, who lives in Singapore: "Below is a poem I wrote in the school canteen while waiting for my mother to fetch me. While the cooks of the different food stalls were busy cooking, I was fascinated by some black birds that were chirping nearby."

Bird Watching

Chirping birds everywhere

On the ground and in the air

Black little birds with pointed beaks

Chirping as they play the Hide and Peek

Sliding on the floor from here to there

Singing as they fly up in the air

Big birds like to soar and glide

While little birds like to slip and slide

Oh little bird, little bird, play with me

I'm so bored as you can see

Reading my books and watching the cooks

Pegging meat onto their hooks

by Amanda O., age 12

Here are a couple of "Apology" poems by two fifth grade students from Wayland, MA. Their enrichment teacher, Ms. Frances Srulowitz, shared This Is Just to Say: Poems of Apology and Forgiveness with them, and encouraged them to write their own apology & response poems. First is Jake's poem, then Charlie's response:

Dear Charlie,

I'm deeply sorry I shot you with the water gun.

You were dry.

I was wet.

Tentatively, you paced around, circling the pool,

debating whether or not to go in.

I thought I would help you with that.

Sincerely,

Jake B.

Dear Jake,

I don't believe I deserved what you did to me.

Besides the fact that I was taunting you

and shooting at you,

I didn't do anything!

Even as you read this letter, I am thinking of ways

to get back at you.

Yours truly,

Charlie C.

My Only Pet

My only pet is a fish.

I wanted a cuddly, cozy, friendly pet.

Like a cat or dog.

Sometimes having a fish makes me sad,

but at the end of the day it's not that bad.

After all the twirling, twisting and spinning he does

I realize he could not do this if he was covered in fuzz.

He is special in his very own way,

and even though he is a fish he sure loves to play!

by: Bridget B., age 12

Art c. 2007 Pamela Zagarenski

Spring

It's nice to know that spring is here.

I like the sounds of birds.

It's cool to see the snow disappear,

and the kids always come out to play.

I feel the touch of the wet, wet grass.

I smell the rain tucked in the ground.

It's nice to know that spring is here.

I like the way that sounds.

by: Madison H., Gr. 4

Little Brown Leaf

Little brown leaf

floating in the breeze

take me on your wing like petals

and let me fly with you

Little brown leaf

floating on the water

like a boat

take me aboard

and let me float down

the river with you

Little brown leaf

protecting insects

from the rain

protect me

from the rain too

Little leaf

oh how I wish

I could be you

by Katie H., Gr. 6

Untitled

Dancing is a coyote

running across the bumpy, rocky, mountains.

Singing is the sun

rising in the morning.

Sleeping is trees

growing roots all around.

Writing is flowers

with sweet imaginative smells.

Swimming is waves

crashing onto the bay.

Drawing is little baby chicks hatching

from their eggs.

Happiness is like winning checkers ten times

in a row.

by Gracie D., age 8

Here are a couple poems written by Ella, who was working with literacy coach Katy Johnson of St. Paul, MN. Ella wrote these poems after reading Butterfly Eyes and Other Secrets of the Meadow.

Grace of the Woods

We trot,

We prance,

We bound through the woods.

We fear hunter’s guns.

Together we munch on lush trees in the woods,

In the woods, in the city,

In the prairie, in the town.

We are the grace of the woods.

Who are we?

(Deer)

by Ella, age 9

______

Apology to my Prey

I am deeply ashamed of my ears that pick out

even your slightest movement,

And my claws, so white and deadly,

tear up the ground.

I am terribly sorry for my paws, that carry me

ever so swiftly across the earth.

And of course, my teeth, so powerful, so deadly,

they are death themselves.

I apologize to you, my prey.

Who am I?

(Wolf)

by Ella, age 9

I Am

I am a drum beating to the rythm when I dance,

I am a wave licking up the beach when worried,

I am 2 peas in a pod never going to be separated

from my friends and family

My dream is to be a pencil so my

imagination soars and my words would

get published

I am Emma

by Emma B, age 11