Category: 2021-22 Submissions

Poems share feelings
Send thoughts to the reader’s mind
With or without rhymes

sitting in a garden,
sipping chamomile tea.

staring at the dandelion fluff,
floating slowly through the air.

lavender scented breezes
and mint leaves

at the lemon trees,
swarmed with yellow yellow
bumble bees.

incoming rainstorms
and lilac flowers

at the sun,
shining through dancing spring saplings

sipping chamomile tea,
sitting in a garden.

When I fall, the feathers fly
When I reach, they drift away
Calm, quiet, a summer breeze
Lifts the feathers higher.

When I fall, the feathers fly
When I call, they turn away
Soft, gentle, they look up
Though I scream from below.

When I fall, the feathers fly
When I reach, call, cry
They look to the stars, the sun, the sky
And stand by as I suffer.

They pity me
Unable to float, to soar
The one who falls while they fly

But when I fall, the feathers fly
So when I fall they let me cry
Because when I fall
They glide higher
So why would they stop me from falling?

I’m looking out over the jagged edge.
Eyes glazed over.
Retreated into my head.
Absorbing the scene into my mind.

The trees that bend and sway, snapping at each other with their branches.
The water that writhes and runs over the rocks with relentless ease.
The gray swarming sky splits apart to hurl the frigid droplets of water at me.
It runs down my face, my arms, my back, and legs.

It’s smooth and calming paired with the searing pain of the chill.
An icy knife cutting me slowly to shreds.
The wind tosses and turns.
Always restless, always searching.

A force bound to the beauty of nature.
Left alone to wonder the Earth,
But never afraid.
Detached from the world.

A churning mass in my chest.
Waiting.
Wanting.
Watching.

An endless need to find…
Something.
And it can be free.
I can be free.

We both wait and watch and roam,
Always looking,
For that something.
That will set us free.

I start to wonder to myself.
Is the wind I’ve always known just the souls of people like me,
Who were born to wonder,
That have finally been set free?

the Stage is where i feel safe.
Yes, this is my place,
with all that spotlight on my face.

my dirty feet on the hard marley floor,
oh Yes, i want even more.

it know its not a phase,
I Know This because all it does is amaze.

Yes, the stage is no phase.
i feel safe.
the spotlight,
the floor,
all of it.
the Stage.

Oh, my beloved books,
You could never leave me!
There could never be a space
Between you and me!
You’re like my very best friend,
Until the very end!

You always bring me joy
Every time I see you!
And nothing could ever beat you!
You always make me happy!
Oh my beloved books!

Pencil in my hand,
Not really caring what I’m drawing
I want to do better
I want to learn art
I have to learn art
I want to be an artist!

I have to get better
But will I?
Not now
But then how?
It’s in my heart!
I just need to learn art!

I’m going to achieve it
I believe it
I’m going to make it!
And when I do,
I’m going to make the most of it
They are not going to be plain
They will make me proud
They will make me stand tall
I will be a brick wall
And nothing can break me!

One time we had some snow
It was not very long ago
Although you may say
It is very fun to go out and play
It was not that day

You could say it was more ice than snow
But whatever you want to call it
You should have your gloves in tow

We could not ride in our car that day
For there could have been black ice
On the way
Coming in and having chocolate warm
Will help keep you cozy after the storm.

My favorite food is really yummy,
My favorite food is as sweet as sugar.
I love my favorite food when it is in my tummy.
Some don’t like it, I think they are a booger.

The flakey dough
melts in my mouth.
But wait! It’s too hot! You have to blow,
It’s as hot as the old south.

My favorite food is Sopapillas.
I love the soft white powder,
I wish I could have them every día.
Although, I would probably start chewing louder.

I love Sopapillas through and through,
If you love them too, come join my crew.

The soft glow,
always walking beside you
being the light.
brightens your day.

A scent,
like a blooming flower
on a warm spring day.
being the light.
Brightens your day.

You watch the wick,
slowly withering away.
Unlike your memories,
from that old spring day.
Being the light.
Brightens your day.