Poetry Written by Junior Authors
Alumni
Past and present Junior Authors students are invited to send Laura a poem they have written in class or on
their own. Only one poem per student at a time will be considered. Please send it in the body of an email to
juniorauthor@agentstory.net.
Stuck
A time to think
A way to sit back
A
break
Sitting
Thinking
Scanning
No
ideas--
Stuck
by Thomas Van Dyke, age 11
*
When You Can't
Think
It's very hard
When you can't think,
When your mind has a kink,
When your head is stuck,
When you’re out of your luck,
When--
Oh! I'm out of words.
by Cassius Cairo-Page, age 11
*
Writing
Writing is teaching
Writing is an easel
Writing is expression
Writing is the writer's life
It gives knowledge
It gives feelings
It shows you majesty
Whether with dragons
Or with stars
by Cian Ho, age 12
*
Writing
In my box
A cardboard box
With Wilbur-force
My cat
I write
Creative
Or sometimes poems
As you can see
In my box
A cardboard box
I write
by Chenoa Honsinger, age 11
*
Wilbur-force the Cat
so bright my joy
when this beautiful boy
looks at me
with friendly eyes
with caring eyes
with loving eyes
so bright my joy
when this beautiful boy
is
by Chenoa Honsinger, age 11
*
The Pear
The pear
The majestice, edible, pear.
It makes me smile when I eat it.
Not a circle
Nor a oval
but somewere in between.
Green
as the sea.
and tastes
unique.
The pear
Such a beutiful edible food
Grown in a field
2,000 miles away.
by Gabriel Simmer, age 12
*
The Cacti
Out of the soil
Grew three green cacti:
One was short,
The other
tall--
But the third
Was the strongest.
Their skin was grooved
And covered with spines,
And the soil was
cracked
And the tops had clusters of spines.
When stroked
The needles bend;
But when jabbed
The needles
hurt.
by Thomas Van Dyke, age 11
*
The Pencil
Long,
Yellow,
Black and sharp at one end,
Pink and rubber at the other.
Used to create art.
The pencil--
The artist's tool.
by Cassius Cairo-Page, age 11
*
Graveyards
Quiet lonely and grim
In the middle, the church stands slim
Cold hard
stones stand still
Looking toward the heavens with their own will
On each stone a
plaque says it all
On when their deaths were from winter to fall
Near each stone a
flower is settled
And all of them are lightly pettled
Some of the stones have
angels on top
While the rain comes down in one big plop
The field that holds the
stones is a grassy green
And it is also garbage-less and clean
Hearses come and
go
Delivering those who have fallen to and fro
Funerals happen every
day
With people celebrating life without delay
However as peaceful as it may
seem
Sleeping eternally in a coffin isn’t very keen
Sometimes people rob graves for
their precious bodies
From famous people to useful Commies
Graveyards are
amazing.
by Marcus W. Jones, age 12
*
A Roll of (Toilet) Paper
It is very soft.
It is very white.
The cardboard in the centre
holds it tight.
You can rip a piece
with a simple touch.
Do be careful,
There isn't much.
by Robert Jin, age 10
*
Christmas
Dancing, glowing
The amber fire crackles
Beneath the velvet stockings
By the tree
Little stars twinkling
Snug in its branches
Snowflakes drift to the ground
Out in the cold
A bell
Far away, ringing softly
In the dead of night
by Vanessa Jewell Medeiros, age 10
*
A Slender Song
I am smooth, polished mahogany,
natural, hand-crafted brown,
with golden
raised embedded frets
and a warm echoing tone.
There’s a lively, dynamic sound
that vibrates through the air.
--vanishing
sound!
But a hollow deepness inside...
I bring a feeling into one’s
heart
I bring two and two together
and make people come to
hear
A soft and slender song.
Music is nothing without me
I make the tune one wants to
hear,
just pluck a string and you will see
the one and silent
secret
about me!
Note by note I will resound
when you pluck my strings
the sound of humming
and jingles come.
I think of family, friends and all
and the people I have yet to know.
by Axanna Monteith, age 12
*
The Snowman
Every winter when kids have rolled me up
And stacked me on the snow
They give me eyes so I can see
And they give me a mouth and nose.
I like to see them have snowball fights
And make me a few new friends,
But then they go off skating
And I'm just left to sit here
Until I melt away.
by Andrew Haller, age 11
*
Vases
Gold, decorated and swirly
Round, hollow and curly
Can hold an ounce
Don’t drop it because it can’t bounce
It can hold flowers, for hours
And can hold old tools
But please don’t give yours to fools
It can feel very, very cold
But don’t worry, it never gets old
Some vases are long vases
Some vases are small vases
Some vases can be hard to break
Some vases can hold a rake
Some are long
Some are short
You can even find them in a court
Some can be fancy
Some can be shmancy
Some can look good
Others can have a hood
Some can be made to decorate your house
Some are so small they can fit a mouse
So please, don’t give away your vase
For if you were robbed, it would make a good mace
Use your vase well, for it will bring you good luck
And even, it would be a nice gift for your neighbor,
Chuck
by Marcus Jones, age 11
*
Vase of Gold
I see its shine
Lustre, tone
The beauty of shape
This vase of gold
The softness of texture
The beauty it holds
My eye captures
This vase of gold
Holding flowers
I place inside
Pretty
Perfection
Poised
This vase of gold
by Andrea Silvestre, age 15
*
Toilet Paper
A useful helper;
You need it when
You are in a hurry.
Snow White
And easy to rip off;
Held by a thick
Brown tube--
It smells after
You use it.
Round together,
But squared, apart;
You yell and scream
When it runs out.
by Timmy Chen, age 13
*
The Golden Vase
The first time I saw it
I couldn't believe it:
It was
Gold
Grand
Gorgeous!
So I went to the vase:
The smooth surface
And the reflective cover
Gave me a shock with
Its ear-splitting crash!
It was the the dream
I was waiting for-
Then I woke up.
by Arien Fucoy, age 10
*
The Vase
It sparkles bright gold
As the sun hits its surface
Smooth as a blanket
But hard as a rock.
It is odorous
But dazzling;
The cylindrical receptacle
A resplendent
Sight.
by Arron Fucoy, age 13
*
Golden Vase
It shines like
gold in my hand.
It feels like
a waxy piece of
paper.
It looks like
a curved
cup.
When I
talk into it a faint
echo replies.
It is the golden vase!
by Alyssa Peterson, age 9
*
The Golden Vase
What can I write?
This vase is a mystery
It shines gold radiantly against
The cool surface of
The table
It's hollow and lonesome but
Still has a spirit
Its golden glow
Captures history
For generations
To come
by Kasia Jarecki, age 12
*
Summer
A farmers market:
Small stands waiting to be visited
Jewlery sings "Come look at us"
Sweet rose petal jelly calling me
to taste it
Millions of jellyfish stranded on the
warm sand, like red jello lying
abandoned on the beach
Thin trails leading to big places
two wheels rolling among them,
bike to beach, bike to market
Summer freedom on Hornby Island
by Sadie Tokarchuk, age 8
*
Zoe Blue
Her freckly face grins and shakes
with laughter when I
tell her some thing funny
Stray blond hair comes loose
from the clip that holds
back her blond bob
She yells in surprise
when I trip her
on the trampoline
Her chubby face grins
when I fall down beside her
she struggles to get up
but I push her back down
As we bounce her pink skirt
bounces along with us
her belly jiggles
I bounce too high
and we crumble-giggling
to the force of gravity
As we lay there
looking for cloud shapes
the breeze carries the scent
of hemlock as it blows
needles on us like tiny feet
I scamper up a tree
while she takes her time
Zoe Blue has all the time in the world
by Nova Dexter, age 12
*
Amanda
She lives down the street
She is always there for me
Even when I first
Met her
I had just fallen off my bike
I was crying
But she didn't laugh
by Jess Shipton, age 10
*
Dice
Square, shiny
pearly white
smooth
corners
black dots
rolling numbers
spinning,
stopping
answer-giving
move your mark
on the
board
play a game
play it fair
roll a one and a
two
then a three, next a four
after five, there's a six
tumbling,
clinking
bouncing, bouncing
dice.
by Malaika Walsh, age 10
*
Salt and Pepper
Salt and Pepper
Go together
One is salty
One is spicy,
One’s for taste
And one’s for heat,
Salt and Pepper
Can’t be beat!
Salt and Pepper
Go together
One makes you pucker up
One makes you sneeze,
One is from the sea
And one is from a leaf,
Salt and Pepper-
More please!
by Jamie Leung, age 12
*
The Dead House
The path to the house is un-kept,
In the garden, nothing blooms.
All is still and quiet except,
For the little bird in the bushes by the path.
The once-white paint is now yellow and old,
The shutters are closed quite tight.
Someone's home is now still and cold,
The bird builds a nest in the attic.
The windows need scrubbing,
The floors need love and care.
The mantelpiece needs dusting,
The bird trills his song long and loud.
The flowers in the garden are dead,
The roses are fading away.
The wood rots in the flowerbed,
The bird hunts for seeds in the dirt.
I don't know what happened,
I probably never will.
All is quiet and still except,
For the little bird in the bushes by the path.
by Nicole Taylor, age 12
*
Crabby, Crabby, Crab
Crabby, crabby
Crab on my window
Crabby, crabby
Crab on my window
Crabby, crabby, crab!
by James Donham, age 6
*
A Horse Named Ginger
That horse named Ginger
Had a nice stall,
That horse named Ginger
Was a nice brown colour,
That horse named Ginger
Was the best horse ever.
by Ella-Rose Thomas, age 6
*
The Soap
My slippery bar of soap
(I might like the ones on a rope!)
When I try to
grab it
It slips right away;
Sometimes I drop it,
To my
dismay,
Into my tub
It slips with a splash,
It goes blub, blub,
blub;
Does this happen to Steve Nash?
by Caelen Makaroff, age 11
*
Wallis
Sleek, fast and young tabby
With orange fur
That reflects fire.
In the wild, stocking his prey
Without so much as a sound;
Pouncing and killing
With a single bite.
Then he awoke,
In his fluffy bed
Before a roaring fire.
by Silas Ewert-Strilchuck, age 13
*
On This Still and Quiet Night
See the chestnut pony at whimsical play
Frisking and frolicking as it may
Gliding and flowing with delight
In the still moonlight shining bright
Still and quiet night.
Its charcoal coat shining with delight
Stopping and looking my way
For little eyes in the moonlight do play
On this still and quiet night.
by Erin Von Riesen, 12
*
Home School
Some people think it's lonely
To sit in a room
Working on projects
All by yourself,
No one around
To give you guidance,
No one around
To help you out.
But let me tell you
It's not like that,
Not one bit.
Some people think it's about sleeping in
Not working at all,
Or being a hermit
Locked in a room
To slave away
For the rest of the day.
But listen to me
For I know what it's like
To work at home;
Sometimes it's boring,
Sometimes it's fun,
Sometimes it's hard,
And sometimes easy,
But most of all,
It's a good way to learn.
by Lucas Bennett, age 13
*
My Hamster
This
squeaking shuffling
world of sawdust
soft and scratchy
woody and wild
pine and cedar
as cuteness caged up,
my hamster.
by Zoe Tokarchuck, age 10
*
The Rejected Egg Carton
It crouched in the shadows
Isolated and alone
With skin as dry as sand
Helpless and unknown.
And if it cried, its tears would soak
Into its gray wrinkled face
Asking why it never had
An egg to keep in place.
by Zoë Collier, age 16
*
Happy
I was happy the whole day,
I just couldn't stop laughing.
Smiling, Laughing, Joyful
Emotion, Opposite, Reaction, Temper
Frowning, Negative, Bored
I was mad the whole day,
I just couldn't stop mumbling.
Mad
by Orion Jamal, age 10
*
Are you growing up?
You are hitting yourself
You are crying on your bed
You are screaming your shout
You are mad at everything
But with no reason
Why?
You hate your clothes
Your body changes
Your day dream a lot
You feel so angry
But with no reason
Why?
Are you growing up?
by Diane Lee, age 10
*
Just Like Me
You are just like me.
When you get older you will like this and you will be like
That.
No, I won't--
Yes, you will,
You were just like me,
You will be me.
No, I will not,
I refuse.
I will not.
I will be myself,
I will like different things.
I'll show you,
No pink for me, nothing "girly."
I am a tom-boy,
I will always run in my colourful world of imagination,
I will always climb trees, fight invisible creatures.
I will not be like you,
I am not you.
I am,
Myself.
by Sage Brownell, age 15
*
Satin Teddy
So soft
And fuzzy
There you are hiding
In your house
Next to your wheel.
Trying to run,
Enough you've had
Doing laps of your cage
Dancing for the carrot,
You are.
by Devon Lutz, age 9
*
I Am a Wolf
I am a wolf
White as the snow elegantly falling from the sky
I howl at the shining grey moon
I am vigilant of man
I am the alpha male
I can lead the pack
I am a wolf
by Allariz Jamal, age 12
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