Mrs. A’s Poet Society 3

Bring me my dragon of golden fire!
Bring me my weapons of desire.
Bring me my mount of violet heather!
A bow of ivory wood, arrows fletched with feathers!
Bring me the sun.
Bring me the sky.
Bring me victory,
Oh dragon of mine.
Hark? Is that the prey?
That which threatens our land?
A pity, too.
For I thought it would be much more grand.
Breathe your scorching flames.
Breathe your sun-blessed fire.
The prey shall perish like a rabbit before a wolf.
Another plan it shall not conspire.
I grow tired of the game, and raise my bow.
Arrows rain death from the heavens.
A dagger to the throat, the deed is done.
Now wounds screaming to be acknowledged I must mend.
But first, I step towards its head.
A flick of the wrist,
It disappears into the dragon’s maw
in a spray of crimson mist.
Our bodies are worn after the fight.
Yet of the Hunt I will never tire.
Hark? Another defiler, you say?
Why then, simply bring me my dragon of golden fire.

My heart is in shards, my clenched hands cold.
The love we once shared is growing old.
Just yesterday, I was fine! Now I am lost.
I appear okay, but at what cost?
Our love was once pure, bolstered with gold.
Yet now it is dull, the story untold.
I can not speak; our love has faded.
If only I wasn’t so heartbroken, hopeless, and jaded.
I will teach myself to forget, as time passes on.
I will become another person, and hope to grow strong.
My eyes gaze into an unforgiving void, but I don’t care.
My heart is shattered with jagged edges; something no one cane repair.
My life, my loved ones, leak out with tears.
I am a hollowed ghost, yet one filled with fear.
My throat is dry, my eyes red.
I laugh insanely in despair,
For our love is all but dead.
Every day, the sun is deceptive; I have no trust.
Our love is long gone, like a fine blade gone to rust.

Eagles swoop to seize their prey,
while small, young sparrows eat their seeds.
Herons wade beyond the seashore,
thinking if they go farther,
could they catch more?
Grackles caw,
while doves sing their sweet song.
Pelicons save fish
for an after dinner snack,
and mockingbirds begin chattering randomly.
Hummingbirds buzz
and zip around,
while owls wait patiently for a mouse to scamper by.
Chickens start to run around
and sqwuak their heads off,
and at the same time little kildeer
run around, protecting their young.
Bluejays eat their worms without complaint,
but parrots would rather eat some pecans and call it a day.
Toucans would like to eat fruit,
while hawks would eat a fish than fruits any day.
Chicks eat what is brought to them,
but sometimes I wonder if they always like it.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that birds are
also on this planet,
so we should respect them too.

John S.

People read them.
They make people happy,
sad,
angry.
They make humans emotional.
Some provide us information,
others provide us fun,
entertainment,
and others bring us to new worlds.
They change our thoughts,
our feelings,
and even our hearts.
They make us think differently,
speak differently,
and even keep us thinking about it,
on,
and on,
and on.
The great memories of the final battle,
or your friend finally slaying the dragon,
or when your friend dies.
They always change you
in some form,
or fashion.
Sometimes you’re stuck to the story,
so you even think you are still in it.
Changing you,
slowly.
And then you realize,
You’re just a human being,
not a knight in shining armor,
or the Vietnam soldier.
You’re just yourself,
not anything else.

John S.

Happy,
yet sad.
Good,
yet bad.
Life,
either way.
If you’re dead,
you’re still alive.
Living in family members,
friends,
and even people you don’t even know.
Tragic,
yet normal.
Peaceful,
yet dangerous.
It haunts you,
day in,
day out.
Always reminding you,
telling you,
“Your days are numbered.”
Scaring you.
Happy,
yet sad.
Good,
yet bad.
Life,
either way.

(This poem is dedicated to my Aunt Mac)

John S.

No one there.
No heroes to save you.
Villains lurk around every corner,
just waiting for a victim.
Enemies everywhere.
Your feet glued to the floor,
while you beg them to move.
The villian nears.
You scream for help,
but no one is there.
No one to help you.
No one to speak to.
No one at all.
The villain prepares for a mighty blow,
but your feet finally move.
You then run,
expecting another villain.
You run into a trap.
Evil is everywhere,
every corridor,
every locker,
every room,
every school,
everywhere.
You are held in an ambush,
full of all of your fears.
Tarantulas,
vampires,
werewolves,
and ghouls.
Banshees and
wolves and
all of those creeps.
Every villain seems to have gathered here.
They shriek and
they curse you,
for what you have done.
They have all gathered here,
to hurt you,
to curse you,
and ruin your life.
They all sweep to action,
as you brace for impact,
you hear a strange voice saying,
“Wake up, sleepy bones! It’s time to wake up!”
So you do and
you see
your old room,
your old closet,
and everything else.
This is where you belong,
not with your fears.

-John Sikes

A bouncy place in a backyard
Bugs stick to the dark black net
Jump with your friends or by
yourself, do tricks or just
bounce.

Metal poles hold
the net and the hard springs
hold the bouncy bottom.
Once you get on you don’t
want to get off of it.

You fly through the
sky like a bird and
hop like a frog. It
is a place where I
jump till I am tired.

Sadness is a cloud I dislike

it is the feeling of being alone
it is too hard to get rid of,
too hard for anyone
Happiness will come

Happiness is a cloud that is my best friend
it is laughter and play
sometimes you meet someone new
then love comes

Love is a cloud I kind of like
it is the feeling of secrets
then someone tells everyone
you’re nervous if the person finds out

Nervous is a cloud I hate
it happens during love or a test
you never know when it could happen
when that person knows you like them and asks if it is true
you say yes dreamily, then immediately say no
suddenly, you’re embarassed

Embarassment is another cloud I dislike
embarassment is the feeling of blushes
the person knows absolutely sure you like them
you can’t say a word, you’re defenseless and frustrated

Frustration is yet another cloud I hate because it’s full of hatred
that person blabbed your secret
you say, “Next time, shut your piehole!”

Feelings can come for any reason and can start in any way
whichever path you choose; someday your story will be known
this story was mine

-Addrian H.

S- super fun
W- wonderful
I- I love it
M- my favorite sport
M- many new friends
I- I can’t live without it
N- never going to quit
G- good for you

By:Kristen H.

Terror.
Fear.
Bravery.
Strength.
Violence.
Blood spilled.
Soldiers.
Death.
Pain.
Separation.
Families left behind.
Murder.
And what for?
Land,
territory,
friendship,
safety.
Why?
That’s all we ask ourselves.
Why?
What’s the gain in killing
people who could be friends?
Dying for freedom,
yet soldiers could still be alive.
If only we could get along.
Everyone could be friends.
Everyone could work together.
Everyone wouldn’t wage wars.
But since we don’t,
we suffer from loss,
death,
hatred,
depression.
And for what?
Freedom,
land,
territory?
Why do people do this?
People’s sons,
daughters,
uncles,
aunts,
grandparents,
and friends
would still be living today,
but because of war,
hatred,
rights,
and for some people’s wants,
they met their grave earlier than
possible.
Their lives could still be lived and tell us about peace,
love,
happiness,
and cheer.
But because of hatred,
and war,
we ended up like this.
And we ask ourselves,
why?
Why did this have happen?
Why did my son end up dead?
Why does war have to happen?
Why?

-John S.