Spiral Poem

This poem is meant to be read in a spiral.  It began with a pattern in the middle, and a line written across the top of the picture.  Keep sprialing to find out where a simple pattern led this eighth grade writer.

by Trent H., grade 8



A Reflective Poem

After a year of working in a Writer's Notebook, students in Mr. Vogelsinger's eighth grade English class are asked to reflect on their work, much in the manner of William Stafford in his poem, "What's In My Journal."  Nolan approaches this reflective work with a keen eye and a coy wit that is characteristic of his creative work. 

artwork by Gabrielle S., grade 9





What’s In My Notebook

Torn pages, and scribbled-out words,

A book in a foreign language

Known only by me.

It is a code, waiting to be cracked,

For if someone cracked the code

They would know everything about me

The things I love, hate, and fear.

But until that day. . .

I write in this language of lines and circles

Where the words only mean something to me.

I still write.

I write because I know no one knows my language,

For no one has found and cracked this code -- yet.

The only door to my mind still remains closed,

The way I want it.

Nolan C, grade 8

Springtime Sonnet #2

What is it about Spring turning freshmen into sonneteers? It's the last one for a while, we promise! What is your favorite line?  Tell us in the comments.

Artwork by Alexa M., Grade 8

Spring

The wind massages flowers on the trees.

The early morning light awakens Spring.

The snows of winter melt; the grass is free.

Resounding in the woods the birds calls ring,

Awakening the world from its slumber.

The midday sun awakens wildflowers,

Gold is the hour, mighty as thunder,

All things shine brightest in their early hours.

The gently trick’ling creek quenches thirst.

The laughs of children break the silent dawn .

The water always flows fastest at first .

It is a hopeful time of year for all.


Summer’l come, school’l end, their best days will come.

They’ll still cherish those spring days in the sun .

 

by Jared J., Grade 9

Ever Feel This Way?

Sticking with our Tuesdays With Morrie theme, here is a sonnet, written by a ninth grader, about the exhaustion we sometimes impose upon ourselves, always trying to keep up.  So sit down, take a deep breath, and enjoy sipping this sonnet to the last drop.

The Race

Everyone runs for their entire life,

Chasing that which we truly desire.

And though the pace may bring all of us strife,

We never stop, despite how we tire.

For the very objects of our pursuit

Are our suns, our centers, our brightest dreams.

And if one denies it, the point is moot;

The prize is one for which every soul screams.

And although countless people choose to run,

Very few manage to claim their reward.

Some will fall, or by pressure be undone,

But all will finish by their own accord.

The finish line crossed, when all has been done,

But few will catch the object of their run.

 

by Sydney L., Grade 9

 

 

If you're interested, here is an op-ed article from the New York Times, an excellent link to the poem : The Busy Trap

 

Artwork by Riley H., grade 8

 

 

Chalkboard Aphorisms

In honor of Tuesdays With Morrie, eighth grade students had a challenge:  In only three words create and visually design an aphorism for a chalkboard desktop.  Here are the best ones!

Another Sonnet

Let's be honest -- sonnets are always in season, so here is another!

Artwork by Claire A. Grade 8

 

 

 

The River Styx

Upon its murky darkness heroes swear.

An honor-bound promise no man dare break,

An avowed oath made out to ladies fair,

Assertion of loyalty with high stakes

The legacy of vast Titans befell ,

Fashioned by pacts of the Gods during war,

A thin line crossing, the gateway to hell,

Honorable mentions in quests and lore.

A great blessing unknown, power  bestowed,

From its water the bold Achillies shaped,

A coin beneath tounges to be allowed.

The ferry of Styx no man can escape

 

An everlasting flow, a constant stream,

Bittersweet remanants of broken dreams

 

by Torin L, Grade 9

A Sonnet for Spring

 

artwork by Andrea G.

 

After a long, lugubrious winter, everyone is basking in this nearly perfect springtime (well, except for the torrents unleashed from the sky today!)  Yeri, a ninth grader, captures the season in a well-crafted sonnet, chosen by students on the sevenatenine staff.


Spring Rain

Love comes to me like a spring rain in May;

My frozen heart is melting in silence.

I'm drenched in the rain on a sunny day;

Your warming hand is my only guidance.

 

When the spring rain is falling, I miss you;

Your scent is everywhere, I feel your love.

This heartwarming love, do you feel it, too?

Oh, you are the only one I think of.

 

I have never felt this way before,

I don't know what this is, it just might be love.

This flutter, I want to feel more and more;

This is the love from the heaven above.

 

My love takes a journey backwards through time,

And the rain keeps falling, can you be mine?

 

 

By Yeri H., Grade 9