I would also like to use this page to publish students' writing. If you have a story, poem, or other writing that you would like posted here, ask me for a permission form that you and a parent must fill out at home. Once you have filled out a permission form, you can e-mail me your piece or stay after school to type it on to the website.Mrs. Rezendes
Keep reading! Below we have a wonderful poetry written by past and present Blue Team students who have been published in Young Voices .
THE PAINTING Beth Hudson His brush caresses the milky canvas. Softly he dips fine bristles into shades of azure and jade. Like God, he masterfully creates a vast sky, blanketing peaceful
villages, peaks of mountains, and curves of valleys. Capturing swirls of hope as they streak the midnight sky like waves rolling over sand. Radiant stars gleam in the heavenly skies far above tiny houses. Wondrously, he shows us his visions through mere strokes of paint. Glorious is the world seen through Starry Night. I Will Know
Stephanie Gass
Hold me tight
and rock me
Hold my hand
and walk beside me
Encourage me
and help me with school
Cry with me
and tell me of your teenage years
Now let me go
out into the world
And I will know that I am loved
Sitting
in the bag,
Trying
to get a few winks of sleep.
Its
albino skin,
Bruised
and scarred from the war.
Coming
out of the bag,
For
another long battle.
The
long, hard piece of wood,
Taking swipe after swipe,
Just
for the fun of it.
Blood
coming out beat red,
In
stripes around the ball.
Getting
abused even more today,
Until lost in the woods far away.
Finally!
Freedom!
Thunderstorm
James Shetler
As the yellow sun shone down from the sky,
I looked off in the distance.
The large black clouds marched nearer from the north,
Not very far away.
Below the clouds the fog sat there,
Like a blanket that hides the screams of death.
Like a bright explosion in the sky, a bolt of lightening
Shot down and hit the steeple of a church and then the rocks below.
All of a sudden the huge black clouds were over my head,
Drowning me in an arsenal of water.
The raindrops fell like bullets,
Soaking the ground with their speed and aggressiveness.
I started to run down the road, but I fell.
I saw the clouds sending their powerful armies of sleet and hail.
I covered my face and prepared to be pelted with pieces
Of solid ice.
And then I looked up and saw that the white parachutes
Of white snowflakes were falling.
I got back up, scraped and cold,
And I realized the War of Thunderclouds was over.
The terrible wrath had ended with a huge peaceful dance of snowflakes.
I walked back home mesmerized and amazed.
Dusty as a desert sand storm
when it collides with a
blackboard surface
Colors range from majestic
leaves of an autumn maple
to the ravishing feathers of
a
peacock
Worn down as the graphite of
my
pencil
after writing endless epics
Breakable as a fragile
pale-faced
porcelain doll
Chalk