Category: 2018-19 Submissions

2017-18 Submissions

Free as a Bird

The things that we do
Don’t necessarily
Define us.
It’s who we are that matters
Our memories
Our family
Our passions
Our life.
Not what we look like
Or how we act.
Who we are
is like
our backyard
Free to explore
Free like a bird
Soaring
On wings
Flitting above
Doing what you want
Escaping from
The world
and our
Worries.

Pearson Ranch Middle School

7

Home

Home is the place for our eating
for our sleeping
for our work
and our resting.
We are thankful to have a home,
and people that love us.
We will help others
less fortunate than ourselves.
We will willingly help
with anything needing to be done.
For we know,
that we are lucky.
We will not yell,
nor fight.
We are community.
We give thanks,
and show gratitude
to others around us,
and we are happier.

Magnolia Montessori for all

4

Season’s Greetings

Summer is the best
Today summer is not here
Today is winter

Fall,
Leaves falling,
Trees taking off their clothes
Bare trees
Waiting for winter
Like hibernating animals
Fall,

Snow, snow is the best
Snow always falls in winter
Gliding to the ground

Spring,
Trees dressing up in green
Flowers sprouting
Buds forming like a new born baby
So many wonders come in spring
(Like my birthday)
Spring is all that
Spring,

Hill Elementary

5

Looking at the Sky

Magic and mysteries
For joy and our far too short childhoods

Why don’t we look at the sky?
We stopped climbing hills in the fading light
Just to watch the day change to night
When the clouds are painted
Why don’t we look at the sky?
We stopped searching the clouds
For shapes and stories, brilliant hues
And the sky echoed beautiful colors
We’ve forgotten to cherish

Why don’t we look at the sky?
We stopped noticing the ways that it changed
From midnight black to dewdrop blue
And the clouds shifting and drifting with the winds,
Their layers becoming more evident
Through their varying motions

Why don’t we look at the sky?
We stopped pulling out telescopes
Late at night
To marvel at the shimmering stars
Far above our heads
Orion becoming a stranger
Despite our desire for friendship and love

Maybe we’ve forgotten
Maybe we haven’t looked up in so long
That the sky has become something distant
Once again.

Ann Richards

7

Why are We Waiting

When did murder become a question
Without a clear answer
When did the line between right and wrong grow hazy
In the thick fog of corruption
When did it become okay
To kill and hurt
The innocent
When did we decide
That the rules don’t apply to everybody

How can we rise
When we are forced to our knees
How can we fight
When we are broken and bound
How can we change the world
With our voices and our words
If the world
Will not listen
How can we stand

Who decided that some people are never wrong
And some will never be right
Who made us think
It was okay to be submissive
To grovel in the dirt because we are weak
And they are strong
Who changed the world
Twisted it and bent it
Into a path of lies and hate

What can we do
To change the minds of people who won’t listen
What started this mess,
The gun or the person who held it
What closed the eyes
Of the people
Who promised that they would never be blinded
What made it okay
To stray from our promised freedoms

Where do we begin
When we try to change the world
Where is the place where the sun rises and sets
Over peace but not fear
Where is that one person who will rise
And stand to save us
Where is the light
Still just a little bit brighter
At the end of the tunnel

Why are we still kneeling
When people need us to stand
Why are you still staying silent
When people need your voice
Why are your eyes closed
When they could be wide open
Seeing the world for what it is
And for what it should become
Why are we still waiting

Is the leap still too far?
Do more people need to die
To open up the eyes
Of people everywhere?
Are we going to forget them,
The faces that should be remembered
The faces of those who are gone
Because of a bullet
A gun
A shot
A silence
And a hole that can never be filled
Not within me
Or you
Their family
Their friends
Their chest,
where the bullet hit
Will you forget?

Ann Richards

7

Curiosity

Craving every single answer
Under a united banner
Reaching for the stars high above
Imagination soaring like a dove
Once retained, always remembered
Searching and seeking
Ideas peaking
Til another query arises
You must ask questions of all sizes

Ann Richards

7

The Best Kind of Memory

A waxy sheet
Spread out on the counter
Flour sprinkled over it
Cold and yellow
Vanilla cookie dough
Placed on the mat
A yellow and tattered recipe
Beside it
The words
“Pinwheel cookies” in dark ink

The wooden rolling pin
Squeaks
As it kneads the chilled dough
Chunks of the delicious treat
Swiftly disappear
As I snatch them off the edges
With nimble fingers
Familiar with the quick snatch
After a few sweet and treasured minutes
There is a smooth rectangle
Of yellow dough
It is moved off the mat
The chocolate dough going next
This time
You let me
Roll the dough
It takes a little longer
And it isn’t rolled as well
Uneven and bumpy
But you wait patiently
Guide me gently
Then
The chocolate
Gets flipped on top of the vanilla dough
Now
We are both stealing sugary pinches

Kneading and rolling
Pushing and folding
Twisting and twirling
Our striped and swirled
Pinwheel cookie dough

ann richards

7

Fire Flower

A seed placed firmly in the ground
Lurking and waiting without a sound
The barest beginning of new life
Pushes through the surface with much strife
The first new leaf, a lime green shade
The stem shoots up, unafraid
A blush pink bud with petals curled
In the dawn’s morning sun they unfurl
Growing taller every day
With strong winds the flower sways
The flower chokes on smoky haze
A once dark forest now ablaze
The flower now a pile of ash
A memory, gone in a flash

Ann Richards

7