Mrs. Derby’s Kingsland 8th graders studied poetry. Included in the unit was developing an understanding of the different meanings that words can have based on the context in which they are used. After reading a few poems, analyzing them, and studying rhythm and rhyme, the students wrote poems based on one of their favorite places. The poems were to describe the place, however stating the place directly was not required. Students also added simile, metaphor, alliteration, personification, and a few other “word tricks.”
A number of students agreed to have their poems published. Mrs. Derby included her poem, as well. Below are their poems for your enjoyment.
Signed, The Writer
By Jacie Berken
Fresh parchment, lines of ink that shimmer in the light,
glittering
An old lantern, its flame flickers as its life drains.
Dark ink dripping fills the silence as it hits the desk,
making it feel dirty.
The clock chimes ten, telling how later it’s gotten.
Beautiful flowers make the room feel alive, used to be
children with a happy face.
Books like bricks sit on the shelves, waiting to tell.
Bitter coffee, should make me feel energized, but just like sleep, that’s not always the case
Dust covered room, taste of emptiness, slightly filled with the clock bell.
A hard, wooden desk next to a hard heart warding off aches and breaks.
Rough parchment, held with tough hands.
~Signed, The Writer
Christmas
By Dasanay Brewster
Kids are laughing
Adults are arguing over the television
Kissing under the
mistletoe
Candles that look like big marshmallows
Warm sugar cookies as hot as a curling iron
Presents that look like confetti
Fresh Christmas tree the smell of fresh oak
Warm hot chocolate touching my tongue
I feel loved
The Autumn Deer Poem
By Brynn Fussy
A deer as shy as a fly
Fawns as vulnerable as
day-old doves
Leaves crunching like the crunching of chips
Whispers like the quietness
of a mouse
Dew as sweet as new
Fresh air on a fresh
autumn day
Raindrops raining down like tears rolling down a happy face Fresh berries that are very fair
Fallen leaves as soft as pillows
I feel calm and peaceful
Alive
By Shaleah Hill
Rivers that are brighter than
the stars above.
The light blue sky that dances with the wind.
A calm breeze that blows above the trees.
The sound of water flowing through the hills.
Fire that burns the wood to keep us warm.
The fresh taste of freshly
picked berries.
The cold water as it hits my feet by the shore.
The soft touch of the flowers as the morning sun rises.
I feel calm and alive on this gorgeous day.
The Court
By Kaelynn Howard
Tall basketball hoops
black and sturdy
Basketball within my hand
Quickly the basketball hitting the floor, booming
Loudly the crowd cheers,
over and over
Basketball on my fingertips
Soon leaving my hand as quick as sand flowing
Sweaty as if I was in the hottest place on earth
Food coming from the stands
Chugging ice cold water as if I haven’t had any in days on end
Hair in my mouth while
running to the bench to catch my breath
Suddenly I feel excited and ready to play
My Familiar Friend
By Caisa Kolling
The lake waves at me like a familiar friend.
A deep, dark bayou dangerous as chemicals, but so daring.
The other boat motors are bees in my ear.
Birds chirp loudly at us until we reach the end.
The invigorating air fills my lungs and mouth.
Grapes from the cooler are almost as refreshing as
ice cold water.
The warm water is a calm, assiduous night.
The GPS on the boat leads me to the distant south.
The dwindling house light I see from the lake is a sign,
To let the lough sleep; for it is a determined worker.
I feel at home, when the lake waves at me like a familiar friend.
Cradled By Stormy Skies
By Emily Sergent
An island, cradled by
crystal clear river water
Trees waving around, as if
trying to say hi
Leaves bristling,
shaking in apprehension
I’m hiding under stormy skies
Wind wailing, crying out as if trying to share its stories
Trout lilies, acting like they are begging to bloom
Dirt radiating its
distinct earthy smell
I’m hiding under stormy skies
Soft raspberries, bleeding when you touch them
Pure water, that comes straight from a spring
Soft moss, soundlessly crying under thee
I’m hiding under stormy skies
Sharp grass, waving its
sharp blades
Uprooted trees laying as
if asleep
Hiding under the stormy skies
I feel free inside
Fields and Orchard
By Elissa Schneider
Hay bales like cotton balls
fill the fields
The oak branches are
swaying gently in the wind
The bluebirds are creatures that chirp in the fields
The river is running through the woods with the flurry
Fragrant cedar wood grows
in the lane
Flowers in the orchard turn their heads toward the sun
The apples from the orchard are sweet like sugar cane
Oranges that are ripe fall
in tons
The dirt is warm like a
sunny day
The seeds dig their roots into the ground
I feel calm like I’m
drifting away
Trabajador
By Wyatt Wiemerslage
Men sweating night
through day
Men working hard for pay
Screams from the wood are a scary movie
Bolts screeching is a
concert getting too groovy
Rumbles from the impact is like a storm
My gloves are getting older and feel like a bolder
Sweat from my face is a river
Old sandwich taste is
coming back
The bathroom is getting
fuller like my wallet
The smell of diesel is a
poor armpit
I feel well paid
Limestone Escort
By Mrs. Derby
A clear river and
leaf-covered trees are signs directing me
Sassy squirrels like
morning alarm clocks
Chattering birds and cool breezes; chimes to my mind Giggling water rippling,
tickling toes and paws
Fresh grass raising its hands
Fresh clean air bursts and blowsss…
Growing berries like tiny
balloons on the branches
Sand and grit walking with
me for a while
Soft moss like carpet and
cool water.
Velvet leaves are shortened
ribbons and
Pitted rocks are archaic game pieces, challenging me.
I feel calm and light and free.
Leave a Reply