Snow
by Amelia Staats
White dots filled the pale sky
Quiet, peaceful sailing high
Twinkling in the bitter night
An icy, silent bit of light
Coming from the clouds above
Like a flock of glittered doves
Landing in the bare trees
Bringing happiness to all that sees
Cheerful laughs play in the snow
Rosy cheeks and frozen toes
Swiveling all the way down
Hitting the white, icy ground
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
This is my Thanksgiving poem
I waited and waited in the tiny woodshed
When the time came I would know
Once a chill rushed in
And the farmer came out of the snow
He came in with his thick coat
And took me by the feet
Grab is knife, some wood, an ax
And prepare for the thanksgiving feast
Skin the potatoes and mash them up
Straighten all the seats
Cook up all the vegetables
And turn on the oven heat!
Then he waited for his guests
Just staring out the door
Soon they arrive two then five
Adults and kids galore
Finally my time was up
When the farmer grabbed his ax
“We don’t eat meat,” he said grabbing some wood
And patting me on the back.
When the time came I would know
Once a chill rushed in
And the farmer came out of the snow
He came in with his thick coat
And took me by the feet
Grab is knife, some wood, an ax
And prepare for the thanksgiving feast
Skin the potatoes and mash them up
Straighten all the seats
Cook up all the vegetables
And turn on the oven heat!
Then he waited for his guests
Just staring out the door
Soon they arrive two then five
Adults and kids galore
Finally my time was up
When the farmer grabbed his ax
“We don’t eat meat,” he said grabbing some wood
And patting me on the back.
This a poem i wrote with my aunt tricia in New Hampshire
Follow the current
By Amelia Staats
A lost boy cries for help
nobody can hear his frail screams
Rushing down the strong, harsh river
Chilly, sopping, drained of hope.
Dull, gray rocks come into view
The boy panics but decides he must try
Bravely he attempts to climb the glossy rock
After one stride he cascades back into the strong current
the sun begins to go down and the bruised, weak boy
wants to give up, just fall asleep under the water
but one thought of his family’s loving voices
gives him courage to push on
With a stretch of his wavering arm
the boy grabs a branch hanging above
With all the strength he has left he
Pulls himself to safety
With a sigh of relief, and a glance at the swift river
the boy heads to his warm, safe home
as the sun starts to rise in the distance.
By Amelia Staats
A lost boy cries for help
nobody can hear his frail screams
Rushing down the strong, harsh river
Chilly, sopping, drained of hope.
Dull, gray rocks come into view
The boy panics but decides he must try
Bravely he attempts to climb the glossy rock
After one stride he cascades back into the strong current
the sun begins to go down and the bruised, weak boy
wants to give up, just fall asleep under the water
but one thought of his family’s loving voices
gives him courage to push on
With a stretch of his wavering arm
the boy grabs a branch hanging above
With all the strength he has left he
Pulls himself to safety
With a sigh of relief, and a glance at the swift river
the boy heads to his warm, safe home
as the sun starts to rise in the distance.
Amelia's writing blog
In Amelia's writing blog there will be short stories, poems, and book reviews.
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