Sep. 11, 2008 - My 11 year old poet
I'm finally kicking our Poetry and Tea Time back into gear for the year. I asked each kid to find two poems they liked to bring to read at Tea Time. N. asked if he might bring two original compositions in addition to selecting two. Um, yeah, you can do that. Wait, twist my arm. Ok, uncle. Go ahead. Write original poetry.
Here is his AUTUMN acrostic:
Azure skys, brown leaves.
Under the trees, the black bear leaves. Under the meadow,
The black bear sleeps.
Under the leaves, the jay stops his song.
Moving day has come along.
Naught but bare trees now are left, as frost steals up to make a theft.
Yesterday, as an aside in his Scavenger School (I hide their assignments all over the house, so they end up doing math in the bathtub and such), I asked him to write a poem. Here it is, an acrostic (I guess he likes those) on SEASONS:
Snowy winter
Excellent spring
April rains
Summer sunny days
Oops, time to dig out long sleeve shirts and pants
Nothing but a beautiful fall
Snowy winter again.
Blessings, Holly
