3-5th Grade Poems
Honorable Mention
The Perspectives of Winter
by Kathryn Huscher
4th Grade
The Perspectives of Winter
As his fur has turned white as the snow
The plants he needs no longer grow
In his den, it is warm and solemn
As winter rises to put fall in her final coffin
So sad he can not sleep through this time of sorrow
Just to wake up and find a bright tomorrow
But no, he has his fur and his snowy den
he must wait for this winter to end
As the snowshoe hare sleeps, across town a little girl sleeps
She goes to sleep dreading waking up
It's Sunday
next is Monday time for that homework check-up
As she sleeps she wonders one thing
will it snow tomorrow
But she suddenly falls asleep...
she wakes up in the morning
A tingle comes up her spine it is 10:30
Rats! She slept in
she runs downstairs to eat breakfast
but when she looks outside her feet slow
All of last night
It snowed, it snowed!
Winter smiles down
as she rests her hands on the face of the earth
She will put an end to warmth and birth
As she walks across glowing fields
With the lightest touch of her ice cold veil
The idea of wind and a trickling rain become old and frail
When she walks sorrow does follow
With footsteps through a falling snow
Her work is done here now she must go
Third Place
A Year
by Alivia Chen
5th Grade
A Year
Jubilant as the birds that chirp,
Lively, flourishing, and the time of renewal the babbling of
the brook the sight of alluring yellow daffodils,
Spring
People clustering together like a field of sunflowers
the sound of laughter and adventure
the cold, sweet bite of watermelon
The season of unwavering, sweltering heat Summer
A swarm of foliage dances
to the rhythm of the wind
trees sway like graceful, elegant ballerinas
a scene out of a book
Autumn
Frost is a blanket that covers the earth,
harsh, moody, and deceitful
the crystals are as beautiful as they are cruel
it is an ice-kissed land
Winter
Second Place
December in June
by Iris Peterson
5th Grade
December in June
Marigolds and poppies and forget-me-nots in bloom
Finally the sweet smell of June
But we've been here since
December It hasn't gotten any better
For there is barely anyone to smell the flowers with
Barely anyone to enjoy the greenest grass with
Barely anyone to listen to the spring birds with
You can only enjoy these things at home
With whom you live with
So it still feels like December
Away from most friends and mostly with family
So at home we wait for the sun to come out,
For the flowers to bloom
And we wait for the sweet sweet smell of June
First Place
Another Season Comes Anew
by Sofie Dardzinski
5th Grade
Another Season Comes Anew
The elegant sun shining bright,
Warming blooms to rise;
Holding hands in pure delight,
Two children skip beneath blue skies:
The world is fresh in their young eyes,
The promise they keep true,
Friendship is the final prize,
And another season comes anew.
A deepening green, vivid shade,
Thunderstorms resound;
Seeking shelter in a glade,
wo lovers whisper words profound:
The world is ripe, their time has crowned,
The truth yields but a clue,
Life's puzzles shall yet rebound,
And another season comes anew.
Coming crisp, a light wind blows,
Swirling leaves of red;
Strolling through the orchard rows,
Two parents ponder what's ahead:
The world is slowing, cares are shed,
Perspectives changing with their view,
Their best years are before them spread,
And another season comes anew.
Heavy snowflakes deeply drift,
Secret wisdoms spirits lift;
As silver years remaining, now are few,
Understanding only grew,
And another season comes anew.
6-8th Grade Poems
Honorable Mention
Awakened
by Alex Dermody
8th Grade
Awakened
The green recedes into its earthen home to escape the snow
As time passes, it sleeps and waits
Deep in the ground
A dormant spring grass safely rests
The white blanket slowly begins to lift
Beneath, the soil shifts
Cloudy walls ruptured by rays of sun
Calling the green up
Like an alarm,
The sun wakes the grass
Stirring it from its subterranean confinement
Sprouts splinter the earth's weakened roof
Each blade cuts through
Rearing its head
Time yanks the stalk from its bed
Shaking winter's dreariness
From underfoot,
Spring has sprung.
Honorable Mention
Everlasting
by Evelyn Hu
8th Grade
Everlasting
Begin in spring, when all things do.
Change breaks forth, a bird in dawn's golden light.
When emerging buds bloom irradiant,
like the Eastern sky as morning breaks.
Hearts are melted as the late frost thaws,
and all of life is woken up,
corresponding with some great river's ice,
cracking at the touch of new warmth.
Then words turn sweet as summer nights.
Northward plains change their color,
shimmering like the shell of an oyster,
blowing in ceaseless swaying waves.
Reveling in the sunshine,
the world is now restless as a dragonfly's wings.
Winds creep from daydream to bliss,
your gaze is spirited in summer twilight.
Clouds race by and shadows pass,
the chill breath of autumn stalks through fallen leaves,
light turns soft and old oaks brittle.
Hearts withdraw as the sun's gossamer touch fades,
shrouding mist hovers along familiar roads.
Only in the shadows we release
and reflect in the mortality of shedding branches.
After sunset; frigid air consumes.
Now swiftly, the winter hail does pelt,
but when it settles, enchanting silence stills the night.
We pause and wait, as the freeze envelopes,
and the only warmth smolders from within.
But my mind is still a summer sky,
spring's first kiss,
autumn's gentle rays.
Third Place
Seasons
by Clare Voss
6th Grade
Seasons
The tulips will leap up,
In the fragrant, beautiful spring,
And there'll be birds and bees and chickadees, while the merry finches sing,
The grass will be gettin' greener,
As robins fill the sky,
And the daffodils, on the windowsills, will be blooming bye and bye,
It's a time for rebirth and renewal,
Although it is hard to keep cool,
And while the fawn is born, in the early morn, the children will plunge into a pool.
Oh, Springtime, oh, Springtime, the little-birds-take-wing time,
With meadow larks and chartreuse parks, it's a beauty-fit-for-kings time.
Then there's Summer, the time for vacation,
In July there's the birth of our nation,
There'll be hot: dogs and beaches, picnics and peaches, and fireworks for celebration.
There'll be trip to canyon and seashore,
Cherries, plums, watermelons, and more,
And the children will shout because school will be out and there'll be family reunions galore.
In the fall there'll be apples for picking,
And Halloween candy for licking,
And when the summer is old and the arbor is gold the fall-back clocks start their ticking.
Then Thanksgiving time'Il come around,
And you may hear the pleasant sound,
Of honking geese, or a pumpkin-pie piece may grace your plate along with a mashed-potato mound.
Then a majestic hand,
Will paint all the land,
In fiery red, maybe yellow instead, while the fruit preserves are canned.
Then jingle bells will ring,
And the Winter season will bring,
Lots of snow and mistletoe as carolers begin to sing.
Then the snow will come fluttering down,
Over every state, city, and town,
People will cuddle up with a hot chocolate cup as the world wears a wintry white gown.
So celebrate each season, each day,
The turning wheel of time, work, and play,
Special is each season and that is the reason that each is beautiful. in its own way.
Second Place
Circle of Change
by Jackson Baron
6th Grade
Circle of Change
Circle of Change
The changing tides,
The drifting clouds,
Blooming flowers soft and proud,
Sweet smells of change waft through the air,
You stand so firmly without a care,
You brave the heat,
While children climb,
You'll outlast all of truth and time.
Your vibrant leaves tum red and gold,
You bear it strongly,
Stand determined and bold
,As the children leave and winds grow harsh,
You bear it all through storm and marsh,
Your roots grow colder,
And a single leaf falls from its home,
Riding zephyrs softly blown,
You drift and swirl,
You float and wave,
Taunting the ground,
So mighty and brave,
As skies grow darker and freeze sets in,
Your roots grow colder and you grow thin,
Before you know it your leaves are gone,
Disappeared with the icy dawn,
You wilt and wheeze as snow does fall,
Magnificent crystals bringing wonder to all,
Your force grows weak,
Your chance of standing small and bleak.
But then at once a miracle rises,
The sun shines brightly with new surprises,
The flowers drift and bloom once more,
And you grow tall just as before,
A leaf returns and then another,
You thank the green and great earth mother,
A flower blooms upon your branches,
As dappled sunlight dips and dances.
This endless circle we call time,
We all go through with joy sublime,
Seasons pass and all things grow,
This endless circle won't let go,
You remember this as you grow tall,
Rising high above them all,
You'll always blossom always bloom,
No matter how much shadow and gloom,
Hope will shine forever through.
First Place
Winter's Rule
by Carolina Zager
8th grade
Winter's Rule
Encased in reflective chains, time is perpetuated to its former youth
Fleeting winds are frozen and frenzied waves are pacified
The eerie silence is precious for it conquers all chaos
Lustrous crystals in their pure form emitting caution to all who near
Blanketing the expanding flora in white initializing its superiority
Life's breath is realized into a solid form, evading stretches of warmth
It's tears shining in the frigidity, within complex forms and expansive patterns
Dissipating from touch, awing from view and inevitably unattainable
Creatures succumb to the helplessness of fleeting consciousness
Evading the inevitable lack of energy and shortcomings of aliment
For their instincts persuade their will for survival
Escaping murderous aura of the coming season, its mercy befalls no one
Its monarchy is the absolute control
Snowstorms and avalanches, ice rapids and hail, ice sheets and bleak warmth
It's arsenal at full disposal for its the bringer of death and preserver of Iife
Consuming all escape, only the resolute can stand head fast beneath its glare
She is lonesome for she portrays no tactics of empowerment over her
She is stubborn for no power can strip her of her free will and
She is the judge of sheer desire all instincts orbit around her, thinking of their survival
She is beautiful
A glistening gem in the eyes of the greedy and powerful weapon in the eyes of the fearful
The season of winter in itself portrays warmth even within the depths of its own frigid heart.
9th-12th Grade Poems
Honorable Mention
social isolation
by Ye Zin Cho
12th Grade
social isolation
i wish i could
carry myself to
the calm breeze of the
blooming trees
and the chirping birds
of the mountains
barely visible behind
the rows of houses.
join
The carefree giggles
of children
muffled through their masks
as they learn to ride
a bike
down the block.
lose myself in
the endless silence
of the highway
across the street.
this social isolation,
the 6-ft mandatory distance
away from everything,
leaves me merely
yearning for
my physical presence
at the mountains,
down the block,
across the street.
yet a part of me
wants the decreased ambience
from the pandemic
to continue forever,
so i can
leave my windows
open to days like
this summer afternoon,
to let the world
drift through the window screen,
and fill my room
with joy at a distance.
Honorable Mention
Winter Waters
by Jacklyn Vandermel
10th Grade
Winter Waters
Snow piles in my backyard
like waters rising in the Arctic.
Darkness waves through me. I swallow
my bitterness before the cold
swallows me. Clumps of snow
like icebergs break
under my feet, and I think about Mother
polar bears plunging into Arctic waters,
gone: another white-ice body,
hoIding together the underworlds.
As I clear the driveway, I feel the weight of a body
on my shovel. Some of the world
is too much
to keep afloat, I tell myself.
My boots pierce shapes
like Arctic Skate fish into the snow,
and over time the fish
are graved into dirt.
Soon Mother comes home,
her car flattening snow against pavement
like the sweat trailing my skin.
By the end
of my chores, winter has sorrowed
my socks. Before I go back inside,
I listen
to the wind, whispers
like finger glass fading:
this is the way
winter moves.
Third Place
Vibrations Through the Earth
by Sophia Noh
11th Grade
Vibrations Through the Earth
Do you feel that?
Kūng, kūng
Seasons play their rhythm,
Kūng, kūng
Vibrate through the earth,
Hear it in your toes,
The heartbeat of the ground,
Kūng, kūng
Rhythmic as the boom
Of thunder in a summer storm,
Crisp and smooth, a rainmaker,
Shhhhhh as the earth listens,
Boom, the sky an accent.
The slam of wooden shutters open-shut,
Tossed by gusts of humid air.
Beat like wings of Canada geese,
Black-brown-white lift-off,
The development, the in between,
The point between this and that,
Hhp, the inhale, the breath before the release, waiting.
The time to mark a comma on your paper,
Delicate as steel brushes,
Winter with its leafless twigs and
A twangy hiss, clatter,
Echoed in rattling radiators,
Quiet as the earth takes its rest
But soon the thumps like the snowfall off a branch,
The thud of boots in the snow,
The plop of slush as it is kicked to the side;
Attempt to rouse her again.
The spring is the crescendo an accelerando, the
opposite of a sportando.
The chorus, if you will.
Increasing slowly, and then all at once,
An explosion made up of
The humming melody of the birds chirping
And the silent song of the rebirth of the trees.
The music nearly drowns out the whispered
assurance that there will be a return,
That the cycle will bring another heart to feel the
Thump, thump
Rhythm of the earth.
Second Place
I Will Follow
by Alisha Wong
11th Grade
I Will Follow
Summer runs away again as I try to pocket the sky,
flaking with gold sediment, light so vivid, it bruises
moaning planks on the porch. The heat baptizes
alyssum-murmuring meadows, a canopy painted
into sunlight's plafond. I weave through wind-whistled
thickets, wishing to blanket ourselves within the fragile folds
of hibiscuses. I pursue summer like a lorn lover, and when
shadows splinter under my bare feet, I refuse to let
time rust me like a cypress inscribed with copper. I allow
bowing branches to scrape my cheeks, arms, thighs when I roam,
already abraded by autumn's sting. Magpies nestle in their
omen-woven hammocks, their songs preluding eulogies, death blurred
by clockwork cycles. The stilling of bitter breezes coils me in burdened
jackets and premature scarves, and before I have a chance to catch up,
my snowy feet melt to the nocturne of winter's tongue. My fingers
tremble in a terrified whisper by the sagging carcass of licaria and
laurels, the gentle hum of what I once knew is gone. And yet, when
the fanged moon returns to rest, I wake up with my frost-worn mouth
hungry for breath. I traverse across the white belly of groves, graze my
hand over the frozen moors of my fear. My stagnation hangs in the air,
a noose nested beneath my chin, a grief to shelter the ticking of cicadas.
Wintered snowdrops sacrifice soil for cradles of vitality. Locust trees
crate their existence in the arching necks of their bloom. I unbraid
myself from echoes, from lullabies no longer lulled. Birdsong
welcomes my tentative footsteps, and I see an afterimage of time's
ripples. And when summer, a fleeting but sage lover, takes my hand again,
I yearn to run with her.
First Place
Stuck in Some Time
by Carolyn Lau
10th Grade
Stuck in Some Time
Watermelon dribbling juice on
long days of soft haze and flowers
perfume the air. and sea who wave in and out
Sit by me
on this tree that never moves only sways
I come back after the leaves have dipped through paints
of green, yellow, red, brown, and green again
to drink familiar scents and find different patterns on bark
that I thought was once a simple solid coat of sienna
Watermelon dribbled juice on
kids running till the sun was caught
till its rays were shared. for a small moment
where we all were the kings and queens of
light quickly fading into darkness
The ocean receding holds reflections of faces
whose smiles no longer match mine
like they did many summers ago.
The birds have flown south with winter on their tails
yet watermelon dribbles juice on
a memory too sweet to forget.
too precious to relive
So sit by me near the water
and watch it draw close and draw back
never touching our bare toes
Hugging the sand to the ground
Sometime, somewhere, this water will tumble over the line we have drawn
We won't be watching
We wait for the nectar of a fruit
ripe enough to drink without wanting more
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