<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072505861161163224</id><updated>2009-10-17T14:18:48.045-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Trumbull Elementary School Poetry</title><subtitle type='html'>Updated weekly, this site showcases poetry from the 2007-2008 Hands on Stanzas Residency, provided by the Poetry Center of Chicago.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Cassie Sparkman, Poet in Residence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00472910555378255990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>17</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072505861161163224.post-3909271741233300784</id><published>2008-03-20T08:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T08:45:36.125-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream Land</title><content type='html'>On March 4, the students at Trumbull looked at &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;In Your Wild Dream&lt;/span&gt; by Richard Hugo. We talked about dreams in general, their strangeness and how confusing they can be, and how that was reflected in the structure of the poem. We also talked about what using second person is supposed to accomplish. The student poets wrote their own Dream Poems, and they are strange and wonderful. Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;2nd Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;In Your Dreams&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Rosalyn P.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are at a moon.  There’s cheese in the moon.  then you fly way up in the sky, then you take a nap.  You are at the water.  You see a dog underwater.  Then you jump out of the water.  There’s a yacht.  There’s a lagoon.  You are in a cloudy, cloudy night and you make a wish.  You are disappearing, then a wish comes, undisappearing you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Mystery Dream&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Nathan P.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are in a forest.  You are an alien, teleporting to a town.  Then a lion comes and growls at you.  You feed it meat, and it goes away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Falling Down: Poem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Nelvin P.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You’re in the city driving a car that’s cool.  You’re on top of the Sears Tower, going to fall down.  You’re riding your bike when the sidewalk changes to a robot.  You go home, and tell your parents the sidewalk turned into a robot.  You show them, but it is just a sidewalk again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;3rd Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Your Dreams&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Shirley L.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are going to the mall with your parents, then something suddenly changes.  You are looking at the toys in the toy shop, and your mom is right beside you.  Now you’re at the woman’s store, you’re trying to look for your mom, you ask everybody, “Have you seen my mom?”  You are alone and scared.  Then you go look at another store.  You find your mom.  You just wake up.  It was just a dream. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Strange House&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Noemi R.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are in a strange house with skeletons inside.  You ask the skeleton “Can I touch your rabbit?”  He says YES.  You touch it and it bites you.  You call all the kids that are there and talk to them and in one second everything changes and the little house turns into a room, but everything is still the same.  One thing changes – you can see a living room.  You all go running for the living room where all of your parents are waiting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Your Dream&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Emily M.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are a person who lived in a castle where thrones were polished and there were knights in shining armor.  You could eat whatever you want, whenever you want.  You can do whatever you want.  You can go to the movies or you can go to the library or the supermarket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;4th Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Shadow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Rene V.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You walk outside your house.  You see the sun.  It’s shining really bright.  Your shadow, it’s calm.  But all of a sudden your shadow escapes.  It runs off.  You chase after it.  It runs through a statue.  You try it too, but you hit yourself.  Your shadow turns into a fierce tiger.  It tries to pounce on you, then you run the opposite way.  All of a sudden, you’re in a forest.  Your shadow is a parrot.  It flies above you.  You’re in a school.  Your shadow turns into a human.  He grabs an eraser and he tries to erase you.  He zaps you.  Your hand is left.  Your shadow runs off again, and you grab a pencil and you draw yourself.  You find some glue.  You get your shadow and glue it on to yourself.  Your mom asks you where you’ve been.  You respond, “Nowhere.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What a Bad Dream!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Aven D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You wake up on an Island that nobody can find.  You are just on the island with a mysterious person and you say who are you, and he didn’t answer.  You say, what is going on?  They guy says you’re alone, nobody will ever find you.  You stare at him with fright.  You look around the island for food, and the guy keeps popping up and saying, you will never find food, and disappearing.  Then you just walk away and keep looking.  He gets mad because you won’t listen.  You are making a sign that says SOS, but the man pops up again and says Nobody will hear you or see you.  You will stay here until you die.  You say, you’re lying! and he disappears.  The next day, you were looking at the view, and suddenly, he pushes you into the water and you touch the sand and open your eyes and say goodbye.  But somebody comes to save you!  You wake with fright, but when you go back to sleep, you say it’s ok.  Somebody saved me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Animals in the Zoo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Shaylene A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are in a crazy zoo.  There is a crazy monkey.  A little girl took the crazy monkey outside the cage.  The monkey opens all the other cages of the animals.  All the animals are chasing the people.  The monkey wants to dance, so he gathers all kinds of animals to celebrate.  They make Hawaiian skirts and start dancing.  The tigers grabbed their whiskers and make music like they are guitars. You are laughing so hard, your face is red.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3072505861161163224-3909271741233300784?l=trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/3909271741233300784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3072505861161163224&amp;postID=3909271741233300784' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/3909271741233300784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/3909271741233300784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/03/dream-land.html' title='Dream Land'/><author><name>Cassie Sparkman, Poet in Residence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00472910555378255990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01832723964579778705'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072505861161163224.post-3528876608687274783</id><published>2008-02-29T16:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T17:00:59.570-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Music to my Ears</title><content type='html'>This week, the students listened to several selections of music, and wrote short, impressionistic poems about what they imagined while listening.  Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;4th Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Sneaky Death &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;after Witches Brew, Miles Davis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Zachary T.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone tip-toeing&lt;br /&gt;through a house&lt;br /&gt;being sneaky.&lt;br /&gt;Someone hiding.&lt;br /&gt;He gets poisoned,&lt;br /&gt;and coughs to death!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Sad Man&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;after The Wings, Gustavo Santaollala&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Nicole B.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a sad man sitting on the porch. &lt;br /&gt;His wife died.  He has no more family&lt;br /&gt;but just a dog.  He and his dog sit in&lt;br /&gt;a whimpering motion.  The man&lt;br /&gt;really loved his girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Great Person&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;after Rodeo, Aaron Copeland&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Omar F.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are marching in a park.&lt;br /&gt;He is playing with&lt;br /&gt;his toes.  He is&lt;br /&gt;climbing up a building,&lt;br /&gt;playing the instruments.&lt;br /&gt;The King is coming&lt;br /&gt;so make room!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;2nd Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A Haunted House&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;after Witches Brew, Miles Davis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Nicole B.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a haunted house were ghosts&lt;br /&gt;live.  The ghosts play…music…&lt;br /&gt;I’m frightened!  But one does not look&lt;br /&gt;like a ghost but it is a woman laughing&lt;br /&gt;frightfully.  Ha HA!  Upstairs!  It yells&lt;br /&gt;like a girl.  She said, My name is Witch!&lt;br /&gt;It blows – it wasn’t a ghost.  It was&lt;br /&gt;my good friend Amy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Big Story&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;after Witches Brew, Miles Davis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Eric C.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People practicing in a&lt;br /&gt;parking lot that has&lt;br /&gt;no cars in it and with&lt;br /&gt;a monkey yelling in the&lt;br /&gt;parking lot and someone&lt;br /&gt;is going to kill that monkey.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Half Sad, Half Happy Day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;after Sejedo, Angelique Kidjo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Areli H.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone got shot.&lt;br /&gt;Somebody is dead.&lt;br /&gt;Rain is falling down.  The sun&lt;br /&gt;comes out.  Everybody is happy.&lt;br /&gt;The person that was dead came&lt;br /&gt;alive.  They get him out of his coffin.&lt;br /&gt;Everybody starts eating McDonald’s.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;3rd Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Bahamas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;after Sejedo, Angelique Kidjo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Colleen Q.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blue seas&lt;br /&gt;ocean&lt;br /&gt;blue, the&lt;br /&gt;shore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dancing happening&lt;br /&gt;everywhere&lt;br /&gt;warm,&lt;br /&gt;hot,&lt;br /&gt;sunny&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A glass of&lt;br /&gt;lemon drink&lt;br /&gt;in your&lt;br /&gt;hand, doing&lt;br /&gt;the hula&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Music&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;after Witches Brew, Miles Davis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Prue M.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A person, surrounded by darkness.&lt;br /&gt;A band playing horribly.&lt;br /&gt;A person getting mad to&lt;br /&gt;another, music that brings&lt;br /&gt;people down, a spy who’s going crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dancing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;after Witches Brew, Miles Davis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Andrea F.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mexican and American&lt;br /&gt;dancing very fancy.&lt;br /&gt;A Mexican playing the&lt;br /&gt;trumpet very old school.&lt;br /&gt;Adult old school women&lt;br /&gt;thinking he’s cool.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3072505861161163224-3528876608687274783?l=trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/3528876608687274783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3072505861161163224&amp;postID=3528876608687274783' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/3528876608687274783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/3528876608687274783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/02/music-to-my-ears.html' title='Music to my Ears'/><author><name>Cassie Sparkman, Poet in Residence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00472910555378255990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01832723964579778705'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072505861161163224.post-5363081665277685386</id><published>2008-02-20T12:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-25T12:10:03.480-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Big World Voice</title><content type='html'>This week, we looked at &lt;a href="http://farawaysoclose.wordpress.com/2005/07/31/sweet-like-a-crow/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sweet Like a Crow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; by Michael Ondaatje.  We talked about Simile and Imagery, and how the two ideas are connected.  The student poets then created their own simile poems, trying to describe how their OWN voices sound.  Some students wrote about other voices in their lives.  The poems are quite stunning -- enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;4th Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sour Like Johnny&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Henry L.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He sounds like a girl&lt;br /&gt;yelling at the night sky.&lt;br /&gt;He sounds like a man cooked&lt;br /&gt;over a fire.&lt;br /&gt;He sounds like a boy with&lt;br /&gt;lemon juice in his mouth.&lt;br /&gt;Like a horse calling for help&lt;br /&gt;in the river of despair.&lt;br /&gt;Like when I yell when I&lt;br /&gt;get a bad grade on any subject.&lt;br /&gt;Like a fish flopping up and down.&lt;br /&gt;Like a diver getting eaten&lt;br /&gt;by a shark.&lt;br /&gt;Like a baby crying eternally.&lt;br /&gt;Like someone going into&lt;br /&gt;a house, yelling at his wife&lt;br /&gt;because he had a bad day.&lt;br /&gt;But he is as sweet as my cousin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Noelia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Elizabeth C.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your voice sounds like a blue jay singing in the morning sky.  When you are sad, your voice sounds like a horse having a baby.  You are as loud as a rooster singing his morning tune.  Like a car stuck in the ice.  A delicious burrito being fried.  Like a hyena laughing nonstop. Like a new baby duckling swimming and screaming because of hot tea.  Like the sound of a cute sleeping baby.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Big World Key Voice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Ataib S.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad’s voice sounds like it can break a whole kingdom.  His voice is old school because he always talks about old cars and old things.  He has bravery, confidence, loyalty.  His voice is hard as a bamboo stick and a bull taking down a person.  His voice is fast as a cheetah, an eagle, and a horse.  His voice is an expert on talk shows, news, and winning.  His voice doesn’t give up when it’s not over.  His voice gets soft when he is not arguing.  His voice solves big problems, like a big world key voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2nd Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Like Rain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Maritza S.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My voice sounds like rain that falls down a tree, like tears are wet and then dry, like the leaves are moving.  Like the air.  It is dry like the sun, but wet like the rain drops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Like a Lion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Nicolas L.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My voice sounds like&lt;br /&gt;a lion snapping its teeth.&lt;br /&gt;It sounds like a child&lt;br /&gt;yelling HELP!&lt;br /&gt;It sounds like leaves&lt;br /&gt;shaking from the wind.&lt;br /&gt;Like a lion scratching&lt;br /&gt;at the wall.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like a Guitar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Nelvin P.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My voice sounds like&lt;br /&gt;a guitar singing a nice song, like a&lt;br /&gt;puppy barking for help, like a nut&lt;br /&gt;cracking on me, like a car racing,&lt;br /&gt;like a rabbit eating a carrot,&lt;br /&gt;like a tree blowing the branches away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3rd Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Soft Like a Feather&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Amanda P.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My voice sounds like&lt;br /&gt;a dolphin swimming in the Atlantic Ocean.&lt;br /&gt;Like a hot summer day in Florida.&lt;br /&gt;Like wind brushing dirt on a sidewalk.&lt;br /&gt;Like water running down a park fountain.&lt;br /&gt;Like only one leave in the wavy air.&lt;br /&gt;Like a lock opening in a big hollow door.&lt;br /&gt;Like a little piece of chalk writing on a chalkboard.&lt;br /&gt;Like the moon sleeping at night&lt;br /&gt;or like the sun waving hello.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Voice Sounds Like…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Isaac A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My voice sounds like a piano singing,&lt;br /&gt;like a bird always chirping,&lt;br /&gt;like an ocean waving,&lt;br /&gt;like a dog scaring people,&lt;br /&gt;like a star shining,&lt;br /&gt;like a gate squeaking,&lt;br /&gt;a bear roaring to a lion,&lt;br /&gt;a tiger scratching wood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My Voice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Alesandra P.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My voice&lt;br /&gt;sounds like&lt;br /&gt;the wind&lt;br /&gt;in the air.&lt;br /&gt;All animals&lt;br /&gt;talking in&lt;br /&gt;the rain forest.&lt;br /&gt;Screaming and&lt;br /&gt;singing a song.&lt;br /&gt;As quiet&lt;br /&gt;as the park&lt;br /&gt;when no one&lt;br /&gt;is there.&lt;br /&gt;Happy as a&lt;br /&gt;clown&lt;br /&gt;at the circus.&lt;br /&gt;As loud as&lt;br /&gt;the door&lt;br /&gt;slamming shut&lt;br /&gt;at night.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Voice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Khalid W.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My voice sounds like a chicken doing karate on the street.  My voice sounds like an apple standing on the table.  My voice sounds like a coin spinning.  My voice sounds like a swing going back and forth.  My voice sounds like a drum banging on the wall.  Like an alligator hunting for fish.  My voice sounds like a tornado.  Like a person hang gliding.  My voice sounds like a policeman giving someone a ticket.  A baker making a cake.  Like a teacher giving homework.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3072505861161163224-5363081665277685386?l=trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/5363081665277685386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3072505861161163224&amp;postID=5363081665277685386' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/5363081665277685386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/5363081665277685386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/02/big-world-voice.html' title='A Big World Voice'/><author><name>Cassie Sparkman, Poet in Residence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00472910555378255990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01832723964579778705'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072505861161163224.post-10069647337261534</id><published>2008-02-15T14:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-15T15:06:10.374-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Emotion Party!</title><content type='html'>Last week, we worked on Personification. We read two poems that personified different emotions, Fear and Shame. After a group poem to get them started, the student poets were asked to choose their own emotion to personify. The results are astounding. Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2nd Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Bully&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Faith H.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mad is so not nice.  She’s a bully who gives wedgies to people.  Her favorite color is black and she has a family and friends.  She loves rock and roll so much.  She is not nice and will never BE nice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Happy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Nicole B.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy is a 6 year old girl.  Happy is always happy.  She likes to wear a rainbow dress.  She is skinny.  Happy likes to jump, run a lot, and dance.  Happy’s brother is Joy.  Her mom is Nice and her dad is Excited.  Happy’s future is to make everyone happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Crabby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Cedric E.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crabby follows you.&lt;br /&gt;He is always angry.&lt;br /&gt;He drinks blood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;4th Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Michael Z.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sad is like a little boy crying with blue eyes with a lot of tears when you lose someone you love in your family.  Sad goes in your school, dreams, jobs, in your body.  It’s invisible, following you in day and night.  He is brother of Joy and Happy, and his favorite color is blue, the saddest color of them all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Anger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Jessica S.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anger is a little boy with&lt;br /&gt;a red face.  Anger is mean&lt;br /&gt;and very grumpy as if&lt;br /&gt;he is very, very mad.&lt;br /&gt;Anger is a ghost who&lt;br /&gt;wanders around at night.&lt;br /&gt;He has a white see-&lt;br /&gt;through body like a&lt;br /&gt;white blanket.  Anger&lt;br /&gt;has black hair and&lt;br /&gt;hates the sun.&lt;br /&gt;Anger is a very scary&lt;br /&gt;boy.  Anger’s brother’s name&lt;br /&gt;is Mad.  Anger and Mad’s&lt;br /&gt;favorite color is black.&lt;br /&gt;Anger lives in New York.&lt;br /&gt;Anger will haunt you&lt;br /&gt;like this black shadow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Confused Man&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Ismael P.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C is a man that is crazy.&lt;br /&gt;O is the man saying “OH!”&lt;br /&gt;N is for Confused saying “I’m rude”.&lt;br /&gt;F is for a kid saying Confused is freaky.&lt;br /&gt;U is for Confused riding a unicycle.&lt;br /&gt;S is Confused doing something wrong.&lt;br /&gt;E is his ear falling off.&lt;br /&gt;D is the silly things he says in his mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3rd Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lonesome&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Emely M.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lonsome is a girl.  She has some black, thin hair with two red streaks.  Lonesome has white skin and she wears a black dress.  She talks to her imaginary friend in her room in the corner.  Lonesome has no real friends.  And that girl is me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Joy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Brandon R.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joy is a man who&lt;br /&gt;makes everyone joyful.  He is&lt;br /&gt;in the family of Happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His eyes are gray.  He&lt;br /&gt;likes to explore&lt;br /&gt;many places.  He rides&lt;br /&gt;vehicles.  He has tons of friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He likes to go&lt;br /&gt;to the rainforest.&lt;br /&gt;He likes to discover&lt;br /&gt;animals and plants.&lt;br /&gt;He is the joyful man&lt;br /&gt;in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Happy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Khalid W.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy is a boy that loves animals.  He loves to ride on airplanes.  He is 7 years old.  He loves to go to the park and play with his friends.  His favorite animal is a bird.  He loves to go hiking.  His birthday is on May first.  He loves to play games, and he loves to see his dad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3072505861161163224-10069647337261534?l=trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/10069647337261534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3072505861161163224&amp;postID=10069647337261534' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/10069647337261534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/10069647337261534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/02/emotion-party.html' title='Emotion Party!'/><author><name>Cassie Sparkman, Poet in Residence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00472910555378255990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01832723964579778705'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072505861161163224.post-3573471123175811572</id><published>2008-01-29T18:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-29T18:53:22.311-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Blizzard in a Rollercoaster!</title><content type='html'>This week, after a couple of weeks off, the student poets at Trumbull dove headlong back into poetry with a look at traditional Odes.  Odes are poems that elevate the subject to a high place of honor.  They writer speaks directly to the subject of the poem, describing and comparing it in as many amazing ways as possible.  The students at Trumbull did a great job getting back into the swing of writing with this fun form.  Enjoy their efforts!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;3rd Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh Sun&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Celene H.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh sun, do you squirt light on the people?&lt;br /&gt;Oh sun, you are a king.&lt;br /&gt;Oh sun, do you rule the world?&lt;br /&gt;Oh sun, do you have a kiss?&lt;br /&gt;Oh sun, do you have a bunch of lemons inside you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ode to Windy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Daniel Y.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Windy blows people because&lt;br /&gt;people go outside.  Windy&lt;br /&gt;moves people back to work.&lt;br /&gt;No people go outside.  No&lt;br /&gt;more people go outside because&lt;br /&gt;scared of Windy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Tornado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Almir N.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tornado is like a bunch of wind. &lt;br /&gt;A tornado smells like dust.&lt;br /&gt;Tornado, you are like a wind&lt;br /&gt;monster throwing cars.&lt;br /&gt;Tornado, you are destroying&lt;br /&gt;anything you see.&lt;br /&gt;Tornado, you are spinning&lt;br /&gt;around so fast.&lt;br /&gt;You remind me of a&lt;br /&gt;game called Crash because&lt;br /&gt;you spin around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;O Ocean&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Andrea F.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O beautiful ocean&lt;br /&gt;you are my hero in the&lt;br /&gt;hot summer day in July.&lt;br /&gt;You know what they say,&lt;br /&gt;you are the body that is&lt;br /&gt;filled with sea creatures that&lt;br /&gt;we love to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are a mountain&lt;br /&gt;with rocks falling&lt;br /&gt;off like waves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are the on&lt;br /&gt;who saves us&lt;br /&gt;from painful thirst.&lt;br /&gt;But at first, you were&lt;br /&gt;just for drinking&lt;br /&gt;but now we are clean&lt;br /&gt;because with your&lt;br /&gt;water we take baths.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Snow Day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by David G.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh beautiful snow, you are&lt;br /&gt;as soft as a blanket and&lt;br /&gt;your cold is as big as an ice cube.&lt;br /&gt;You are everywhere on top&lt;br /&gt;of the roof and close to my&lt;br /&gt;door.  You also are in my snowsuit.&lt;br /&gt;You travel in the air and you&lt;br /&gt;are so dangerous.  The sun is&lt;br /&gt;about to come out. The&lt;br /&gt;snow melts and we will say&lt;br /&gt;bye-bye to you snow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;2nd Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Blizzard in a Rollercoaster!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Faith H.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O tornado, you make&lt;br /&gt;people throw up by spinning&lt;br /&gt;around and around.  You&lt;br /&gt;keep spinning and I&lt;br /&gt;can’t stop you.  You&lt;br /&gt;keep on spinning and my&lt;br /&gt;eyes pop out.  You look&lt;br /&gt;like a huge flower.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Green Poem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Giovanni F.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O beautiful green,&lt;br /&gt;you are the color of the grass.&lt;br /&gt;You are a sweater.&lt;br /&gt;Green, you taste like blueberries&lt;br /&gt;and smell like cherries.&lt;br /&gt;You are leaves on a tree&lt;br /&gt;or a turtle in the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Shark&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Roberto D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O red, you are&lt;br /&gt;like a shark.&lt;br /&gt;You taste like&lt;br /&gt;whipped cream and are&lt;br /&gt;dark like a crayon.&lt;br /&gt;You are sweet&lt;br /&gt;like a strawberry.&lt;br /&gt;You are like a house&lt;br /&gt;or like a letter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Shiny Yellow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Rosalyn P.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O yellow, there’s a sun in the sky&lt;br /&gt;and there is a whale jumping in the&lt;br /&gt;water.  Your shiny yellow is shining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;4th Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ode to a Diamond&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Jennifer B.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O beautiful diamond,&lt;br /&gt;I love how shiny you&lt;br /&gt;are.  When I look at&lt;br /&gt;you, I can see my&lt;br /&gt;reflection and a lot&lt;br /&gt;of my faces in the&lt;br /&gt;squares or triangles&lt;br /&gt;you have.  I love when&lt;br /&gt;you turn, you look like&lt;br /&gt;a turning disco ball.&lt;br /&gt;I love how you are&lt;br /&gt;triangles, and you are&lt;br /&gt;so pointy like a needle&lt;br /&gt;or a knife.  You are my&lt;br /&gt;dream of shinyness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ode to Lemon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Alexis C.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O beautiful lemon&lt;br /&gt;you look like&lt;br /&gt;a ball.  You are tasty&lt;br /&gt;and juicy.  You look&lt;br /&gt;like a sun, round&lt;br /&gt;as a hole.  You float&lt;br /&gt;on water, we play catch&lt;br /&gt;with you.  You are round&lt;br /&gt;as my eyeball.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ode to Snow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Allan F.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snow, you are&lt;br /&gt;beautiful.  You are&lt;br /&gt;more awesome than&lt;br /&gt;white pearls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are better&lt;br /&gt;than diamonds.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ode to a Strawberry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Tanayra B.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You, strawberry, are so&lt;br /&gt;sweet.  So juicy.  Sister&lt;br /&gt;to a lady bug.  Dipped in&lt;br /&gt;red syrup.  Splashed with little&lt;br /&gt;dark chocolates.  Star of all&lt;br /&gt;food.  Your strawberry inside is&lt;br /&gt;a pool of goodness.  Strawberry&lt;br /&gt;you are so much  better than&lt;br /&gt;an apple.  You feel so funny&lt;br /&gt;in my hand, in my mouth.&lt;br /&gt;You are wonderful.  You&lt;br /&gt;have a pretty leaf on top&lt;br /&gt;to complete your perfection.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3072505861161163224-3573471123175811572?l=trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/3573471123175811572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3072505861161163224&amp;postID=3573471123175811572' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/3573471123175811572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/3573471123175811572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/01/blizzard-in-rollercoaster.html' title='The Blizzard in a Rollercoaster!'/><author><name>Cassie Sparkman, Poet in Residence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00472910555378255990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01832723964579778705'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072505861161163224.post-5998501047608178793</id><published>2008-01-10T19:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T19:07:55.965-08:00</updated><title type='text'>True Confessions!</title><content type='html'>Happy New Year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To start off the 2008 and get us back into poetry, this week we looked at &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This is Just to Say&lt;/span&gt; by William Carlos Williams.  This poem uses short lines and specific language to beautiful effect to create a bouncy rhythm when the poem is read out loud.  We talked about what poems are built of (lines and stanzas), and what a short line will do to the rhythm of a poem.  Modeled after Mr. Williams's poem, the students were asked to write their own true confession, and include an apology.  I asked them to decide if they really &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;meant&lt;/span&gt; their apologies, or if sometimes, do something bad actually feels pretty good.  Enjoy their great poems!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;3rd Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Time to Wrestle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Aztlan G.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fought my&lt;br /&gt;cousin and his&lt;br /&gt;brother and&lt;br /&gt;I won I did&lt;br /&gt;the Walls of&lt;br /&gt;Jericho to my&lt;br /&gt;cousin’s brother&lt;br /&gt;and I did the&lt;br /&gt;Angel Rock then&lt;br /&gt;his grandma came&lt;br /&gt;in them my cousin&lt;br /&gt;tapped out and I did&lt;br /&gt;the spear to both&lt;br /&gt;of them.  Their mom&lt;br /&gt;came in and she&lt;br /&gt;got mad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Just to Say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Prue M.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m so&lt;br /&gt;sorry&lt;br /&gt;that I stayed&lt;br /&gt;up really&lt;br /&gt;late for&lt;br /&gt;watching TV&lt;br /&gt;and playing too&lt;br /&gt;much Nintendo Wii.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to stop&lt;br /&gt;but I couldn’t.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was trying to&lt;br /&gt;beat my level in&lt;br /&gt;Atlantis Squarepantis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I was supposed&lt;br /&gt;to read but the game&lt;br /&gt;you got me was cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, so SORRY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by David F.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told a&lt;br /&gt;friend I&lt;br /&gt;love her.&lt;br /&gt;3 days&lt;br /&gt;later I&lt;br /&gt;apologized.&lt;br /&gt;I shouldn’t&lt;br /&gt;say that&lt;br /&gt;and we’re&lt;br /&gt;friends again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;2nd Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Erased Megaman Game&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Giovanni F.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I erased my brother’s&lt;br /&gt;Megaman game.  When&lt;br /&gt;he found out, he was&lt;br /&gt;so mad, he erased&lt;br /&gt;my Megaman game.&lt;br /&gt;I said I’m sorry,&lt;br /&gt;and we started&lt;br /&gt;to play over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sorry Poem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Nelvin P.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I broke my brother’s video game&lt;br /&gt;called Sonic Heroes. It was&lt;br /&gt;in my Game Cube to hide it&lt;br /&gt;from him.  He just looked&lt;br /&gt;and found it.  Forgive me&lt;br /&gt;brother, I will fix it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;List of Confessions&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Erica N.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Locking out Daniela and&lt;br /&gt;playing on the gameboy that night,&lt;br /&gt;but I’m sorry for doing that.&lt;br /&gt;Please forgive me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not cleaning the room&lt;br /&gt;when it was my turn but&lt;br /&gt;I’m sorry, please forgive me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I broke the plate and&lt;br /&gt;I’m sorry, please forgive me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I scratched my sister’s DVD&lt;br /&gt;but I’m sorry, please forgive me,&lt;br /&gt;I’ll buy you a new one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4th Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Outdoors&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Wenny L.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and my&lt;br /&gt;cousin were&lt;br /&gt;playing in&lt;br /&gt;my house&lt;br /&gt;my mom said&lt;br /&gt;we should not&lt;br /&gt;go outside&lt;br /&gt;but we did&lt;br /&gt;anyway and my&lt;br /&gt;mom saw us&lt;br /&gt;and we got&lt;br /&gt;in so much&lt;br /&gt;trouble and&lt;br /&gt;we said sorry&lt;br /&gt;but it was&lt;br /&gt;fun when we&lt;br /&gt;played jump rope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Trouble in Wrestling&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Brandon R.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have wrestled&lt;br /&gt;with my&lt;br /&gt;cousins even when&lt;br /&gt;I wasn’t&lt;br /&gt;supposed to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made both&lt;br /&gt;of them&lt;br /&gt;cry then they&lt;br /&gt;told on me&lt;br /&gt;and I&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;have gotten into&lt;br /&gt;a lot&lt;br /&gt;of trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sorry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Jellisa A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One time when&lt;br /&gt;my brother&lt;br /&gt;was taking&lt;br /&gt;a shower&lt;br /&gt;I opened the door&lt;br /&gt;and I put a lot&lt;br /&gt;of toilet paper&lt;br /&gt;in the toilet&lt;br /&gt;and I blamed him&lt;br /&gt;but when I&lt;br /&gt;saw my mom&lt;br /&gt;screaming at him&lt;br /&gt;I felt sad&lt;br /&gt;then I told&lt;br /&gt;my mom that&lt;br /&gt;I did it&lt;br /&gt;and I told&lt;br /&gt;my brother&lt;br /&gt;I am sorry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3072505861161163224-5998501047608178793?l=trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/5998501047608178793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3072505861161163224&amp;postID=5998501047608178793' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/5998501047608178793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/5998501047608178793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/2008/01/true-confessions.html' title='True Confessions!'/><author><name>Cassie Sparkman, Poet in Residence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00472910555378255990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01832723964579778705'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072505861161163224.post-443905808360324285</id><published>2007-12-12T16:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-12T16:09:53.339-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreaming without Buying</title><content type='html'>This week, in my last visit with the Trumbull students before the new year, we read &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;In Praise of Dreams&lt;/span&gt; by Wislawa Szymborska, a famous Polish poet.  In the poem, she writes about all of the things that she can do and see in her dreams that she can't in her waking life.  The poem is written in couplets , so we also learned what that word means, and how to create them in their own poems.  The students wrote their own Dreams poems, with the rule included that they could not BUY anything in their written dreams.  Enjoy the results!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4th Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Am Dreaming&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Ismael P.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my dreams&lt;br /&gt;I’m a wrestler, fighting in the WWE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go to Antarctica&lt;br /&gt;and I control all of the snow in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a sky scraper&lt;br /&gt;touching the sky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a dog&lt;br /&gt;running away from another dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a cat&lt;br /&gt;running because someone wants my fur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am&lt;br /&gt;the President of the entire world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dreams&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Steven M.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can eat&lt;br /&gt;a million pieces of candy in one minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I beat John Cena&lt;br /&gt;in RAW and Ray Mysterioso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am bored when&lt;br /&gt;today is yesterday and yesterday is today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;In My Dreams&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Daniel M.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my dream&lt;br /&gt;I am a famous soccer player.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am the President&lt;br /&gt;of the United States.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some aliens&lt;br /&gt;take me to their ship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can control&lt;br /&gt;fire, wind, water, and land.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a superhero&lt;br /&gt;controlling everything up in space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2nd Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dreams&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Roberto D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a spider&lt;br /&gt;eating a cookie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a rock star&lt;br /&gt;playing with a guitar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a football&lt;br /&gt;flying up to the moon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Santa&lt;br /&gt;at the North Pole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a pencil&lt;br /&gt;writing in a book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a car driving&lt;br /&gt;on the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a dog&lt;br /&gt;seeing a bone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;In My Dreams&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Felix A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can eat a cookie&lt;br /&gt;without using my mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can open a box&lt;br /&gt;without using my hands&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can make the rain stop&lt;br /&gt;when I clap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can pet&lt;br /&gt;an alligator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Amazing Dreams&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Nathan P.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can eat&lt;br /&gt;through metal bars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can jump&lt;br /&gt;to the sun that is blue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can change animals&lt;br /&gt;different colors with my finger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can make the sky&lt;br /&gt;fall to the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3rd Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dreams&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Santiago D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a toy that&lt;br /&gt;takes electricity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am trucks formed&lt;br /&gt;as Super Saiyn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am glue and a&lt;br /&gt;rock with paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a bear&lt;br /&gt;being eaten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have 300 shirts&lt;br /&gt;that say D-Generation-X.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a clock&lt;br /&gt;ticking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dreaming in Your Sleep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Edwin T.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am dreaming&lt;br /&gt;about a football player making an interception.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am dreaming&lt;br /&gt;a rhino fighting a pig.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am dreaming about getting mad&lt;br /&gt;and going to Mr. Perkins, and Mr. Perkins&lt;br /&gt;telling us to get along and we did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My Dreams&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Amanda P.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my dreams I&lt;br /&gt;have a house made out of money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I speak with lions&lt;br /&gt;in a jungle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see a beautiful&lt;br /&gt;waterfall and a rainbow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see a wonderful, colorful&lt;br /&gt;garden house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fly on a cloud&lt;br /&gt;over the seventh heavens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I run with horses&lt;br /&gt;of all different colors and sizes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swim with dolphins&lt;br /&gt;in the Pacific Ocean.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3072505861161163224-443905808360324285?l=trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/443905808360324285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3072505861161163224&amp;postID=443905808360324285' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/443905808360324285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/443905808360324285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/2007/12/dreaming-without-buying.html' title='Dreaming without Buying'/><author><name>Cassie Sparkman, Poet in Residence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00472910555378255990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01832723964579778705'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072505861161163224.post-5285286592607108070</id><published>2007-12-12T16:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-12T16:04:49.851-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Going Inside</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" &gt;In the first week of December, the student Poets at Trumbull read &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Stone&lt;/span&gt; by Charles Simic.  The poem describes what a stone goes through in its life, and what it might be like if one could go inside it.  The young writers chose their own objects to go inside.  The results were beautiful!  Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;4th Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pearl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Lorenzo A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go inside a pearl.&lt;br /&gt;Let somebody else&lt;br /&gt;become a diamond&lt;br /&gt;or a ruby. The outside&lt;br /&gt;is smooth, and two huge&lt;br /&gt;things stare at me.&lt;br /&gt;On the inside,&lt;br /&gt;it’s so fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Inside the Diamond&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Nicole B.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go inside a diamond.  Let someone else&lt;br /&gt;be the polisher.  On the outside, there is&lt;br /&gt;a glass shield to protect the crystal&lt;br /&gt;palace.  It rains crystals&lt;br /&gt;of red and pink on the inside. &lt;br /&gt;There is a crystal queen,&lt;br /&gt;and around her, there are&lt;br /&gt;bracelets, necklaces, rings, and lots&lt;br /&gt;more.  And the diamond&lt;br /&gt;shines like the moon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Disc World&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Ataib S.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go inside a disc. &lt;br /&gt;Let somebody else become&lt;br /&gt;a scientist or seller. &lt;br /&gt;It is a flat ball&lt;br /&gt;rolling in a DVD player. &lt;br /&gt;A plate of Venus. &lt;br /&gt;Inside it, glaciers, crystals,&lt;br /&gt;and a big lightening storm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;2nd Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inside a Marble&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Nicolas L.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going inside a marble is a&lt;br /&gt;powerful color.  Touch it, something&lt;br /&gt;will happen to you.  Run, and the&lt;br /&gt;marble will move.  The outside&lt;br /&gt;is a maze with people trying to get&lt;br /&gt;out.  Someone shoots it&lt;br /&gt;with colorful words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Going Inside a Snowflake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Areli H.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is small.  It is white.&lt;br /&gt;A tiny fairy lives in it.&lt;br /&gt;she has a closet with a lot&lt;br /&gt;of food.  It is very cold.&lt;br /&gt;A small bed.  A small bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;It is cool there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;3rd Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Going Inside a Quarter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Brandon R.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a quarter.  Let another person&lt;br /&gt;by dust.  I have been spent on soda.  Now&lt;br /&gt;a candy bar. On the outside, it is like I’m not&lt;br /&gt;there.  What is inside is weird.  I don’t have&lt;br /&gt;what humans have inside their bodies.  The only thing&lt;br /&gt;I have is just metal.  I am worth 25 cents.&lt;br /&gt;I am spent a lot.  I am gray.  I am&lt;br /&gt;the biggest cent that you can spend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Grape&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Shirley L.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go inside a grape.  Let someone else go in a little stone.  From the outside, the grape is a tiny purple bug.  On the inside, it is mushy and sweet.  The color of the grape is half blue and half yellow.  Inside, I can see a big and beautiful palace.  I also see a place where I can lie down.  I can hear birds chirping, and children playing in the park.  Inside, the palace is a ball.  I see lots of people dancing.  I also see a river.  The water is cold.  I see a stream.  Inside the stream, I see three salmons.  The salmons are hunting for food.  This grape is very special.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Falling&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Charles B.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go inside a raindrop.  Let some&lt;br /&gt;one else be a little gumball.&lt;br /&gt;The outside is smooth hair&lt;br /&gt;waiting to come off.  The inside&lt;br /&gt;is little soldiers fighting for&lt;br /&gt;super powers.  Suddenly, the raindrop&lt;br /&gt;flies, looking for clouds.  Also the&lt;br /&gt;inside is papers filled with love&lt;br /&gt;letters.  The outside is poets thinking&lt;br /&gt;extremely hard to get an idea for writing.&lt;br /&gt;Also inside there are 2 humungous polar bears.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3072505861161163224-5285286592607108070?l=trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/5285286592607108070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3072505861161163224&amp;postID=5285286592607108070' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/5285286592607108070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/5285286592607108070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/2007/12/going-inside.html' title='Going Inside'/><author><name>Cassie Sparkman, Poet in Residence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00472910555378255990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01832723964579778705'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072505861161163224.post-8896425021842450659</id><published>2007-11-30T19:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-30T19:59:04.193-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Questioning the Secret Nature of the World</title><content type='html'>This week, my students dove off the deep end of making sense!  We looked at a small portion of &lt;a href="http://poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/16006"&gt;Pablo Neruda's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Book of Questions&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, and talked about what secrets of the world he was trying to reveal. I encouraged the student writers to ask a question that was both descriptive AND revealed something about their subject that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;only they knew&lt;/span&gt; (thus, essentially, making stuff up!). This was a tough poem to write, and my amazing young poets rose to the challenge admirably!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;4th Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Space of Questions&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Henry L.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me, Falcon, where did you get&lt;br /&gt;your wings that sparkle in the sunlight?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me, does a tiger get its&lt;br /&gt;stripes in the upside down castle?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me, does the rooster travel&lt;br /&gt;in time by using the farmer’s pants?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me, does the snake go every night&lt;br /&gt;in the dark to the depths of space?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me, are the spider’s legs made from&lt;br /&gt;the hair on the back of a hairy man?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It’s a Secret&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Aven D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does the raccoon have black glasses&lt;br /&gt;to hide its identity?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can a bird just fly in the sky&lt;br /&gt;and then disappear?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When trees grow apples, do they talk&lt;br /&gt;to humans so they won’t get picked?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me, does a chicken talk to other&lt;br /&gt;chickens so they can defend themselves&lt;br /&gt;from being eaten?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Pillow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Martitha A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me, does a cloud get its looks from a pillow?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does the snow man get his color&lt;br /&gt;from a white and soft pillow in the sky?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does snow turn into water?&lt;br /&gt;Because it is made of ice?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me, are you a piece of cotton candy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me, did you get dark eyes from&lt;br /&gt;a mean rain cloud?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3rd Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4 Questions&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Noemi R.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does the shark swim&lt;br /&gt;instead of crawling in the world?&lt;br /&gt;Why does hail turn to solid?&lt;br /&gt;Does it like to hear a clinking&lt;br /&gt;noise when it hits the ground?&lt;br /&gt;Tell me, why is the ficus so skinny&lt;br /&gt;and small? Why can’t it be big and fat?&lt;br /&gt;Why do radios put music on&lt;br /&gt;instead of me singing the songs?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Weird Questions&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Matthew P.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does the jaguar have an engine?&lt;br /&gt;Did the bright sun come from heaven?&lt;br /&gt;Did the cactus get arrows shot into it?&lt;br /&gt;Does the Playstation get electrocuted?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Questions About Animals&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Andrea F.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How did the French Poodle get his curly hair?&lt;br /&gt;From the Groomers?&lt;br /&gt;How is the wind created?&lt;br /&gt;From the giant blowing air in the sky?&lt;br /&gt;How is the violet plant created?&lt;br /&gt;From the color violet?&lt;br /&gt;Where does snow come from?&lt;br /&gt;The birds?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2nd Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Rose&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Areli H.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rose, did you get your red&lt;br /&gt;from an apple bitten by a worm?&lt;br /&gt;Pony, did you get your brown&lt;br /&gt;from a squirrel running up a tree?&lt;br /&gt;Winter, did you get your cold&lt;br /&gt;from a snowman standing in the snow?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lightening&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Jalyssa M.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you know lightening can shake you?&lt;br /&gt;How did a panda learn to climb?&lt;br /&gt;Did you know the sunflower got&lt;br /&gt;its yellow from the sun?  Tell me,&lt;br /&gt;did the thunder get its sound from&lt;br /&gt;the bowling alley?  Tell me, did the&lt;br /&gt;panda get its color from a dog?&lt;br /&gt;Did you know that thunderstorms&lt;br /&gt;started in a war?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3072505861161163224-8896425021842450659?l=trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/8896425021842450659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3072505861161163224&amp;postID=8896425021842450659' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/8896425021842450659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/8896425021842450659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/2007/11/questioning-secret-nature-of-world.html' title='Questioning the Secret Nature of the World'/><author><name>Cassie Sparkman, Poet in Residence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00472910555378255990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01832723964579778705'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072505861161163224.post-2625248827907188606</id><published>2007-11-26T19:28:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-26T19:35:10.040-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What They Loved</title><content type='html'>This week, before Thanksgiving, the student poets at Trumbull looked at a beautiful but strange poem by Lisa Jarnot called &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;They Loved Paperclips&lt;/span&gt;.  The poem is a list of all the things that "they" loved.  We talked about third person, lists, what kinds of things in the world we love, and also rhyme and play with words in poetry, which Ms. Jarnot does in her poem.  The students were asked to write their own poems using "they loved", picturing themselves and their families as the "they" in question.  The student poets rose to the challenge, and created beautiful poems.  Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4th Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They Loved Nature&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Ataib S.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They loved planes and trains, they&lt;br /&gt;loved cars and the stars, they loved&lt;br /&gt;juice and fried rice, they loved all&lt;br /&gt;types of games and the sky’s name,&lt;br /&gt;they loved states and mates, they loved&lt;br /&gt;trees and vegetables, they loved chicken&lt;br /&gt;in the land of Lincoln, they loved&lt;br /&gt;forests and me, they loved mountains&lt;br /&gt;and beaches, and they loved the world&lt;br /&gt;with nature, and the things that&lt;br /&gt;people make, the kind and friendly people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;They Loved Clocks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Elizabeth C.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They loved the zoo.  They loved&lt;br /&gt;cookies with milk. They loved&lt;br /&gt;oranges and door hinges too.  They&lt;br /&gt;loved winter and spring and they&lt;br /&gt;even loved to sing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They loved the color blue.  They&lt;br /&gt;loved apples, bananas, strawberries too.&lt;br /&gt;They loved stars that are white and&lt;br /&gt;shine very bright.  They loved the&lt;br /&gt;words that rhyme: pain and gain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They loved parrots and their cousin&lt;br /&gt;Harriet.  They loved their good looks.&lt;br /&gt;They loved, loved the clouds&lt;br /&gt;way high up in the sky.  They didn’t love&lt;br /&gt;donuts, no one knows why.  They dreamed&lt;br /&gt;of flowers that had super powers&lt;br /&gt;and were not very shy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;They Love?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Omar F.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They loved dogs that bark!&lt;br /&gt;They loved nachos with meat.&lt;br /&gt;They loved the thank in Thanksgiving.&lt;br /&gt;They loved Turkey.&lt;br /&gt;They loved straight A’s.&lt;br /&gt;They loved Spongebob with Patrick.&lt;br /&gt;They loved pizza.&lt;br /&gt;They loved college.&lt;br /&gt;They loved McDonald’s.&lt;br /&gt;They loved Angels.&lt;br /&gt;They loved cellphones.&lt;br /&gt;They loved poetry.&lt;br /&gt;They loved Drama.&lt;br /&gt;They loved Folktales.&lt;br /&gt;They loved non-fiction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;They Loved Food and Things&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Alexis C.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They loved corn, they loved&lt;br /&gt;turkey.  They loved mashed potatoes.&lt;br /&gt;They loved smackdown vs. Raw 2008.&lt;br /&gt;They loved TV shows.  They loved&lt;br /&gt;ugly houses.  They loved 100 dollars.&lt;br /&gt;They loved wrestling toys and new clothes.&lt;br /&gt;They loved teachers and books.  They loved&lt;br /&gt;pencils.  They loved soccer, air, and computers.&lt;br /&gt;They loved water, they loved ice cream.&lt;br /&gt;They loved money, cookies, football&lt;br /&gt;and Christmas.  They loved flowers and children.&lt;br /&gt;They loved to read, and they loved lunch.&lt;br /&gt;They loved projects, poetry, and color.&lt;br /&gt;They loved non fiction and all kinds of words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;2nd Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;They Loved&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Sammy S.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They loved the sky.&lt;br /&gt;They loved roses.&lt;br /&gt;They loved the lake.&lt;br /&gt;they loved Playstations.&lt;br /&gt;They loved books.&lt;br /&gt;They loved the rain.&lt;br /&gt;They loved cookies.&lt;br /&gt;They loved igloos.&lt;br /&gt;they loved dogs.&lt;br /&gt;They loved the sun.&lt;br /&gt;They loved God.&lt;br /&gt;They loved peace.&lt;br /&gt;They loved puppets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Love Poem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Martiza S.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They loved the sky, sunlight,&lt;br /&gt;rain, and the trees.  They loved&lt;br /&gt;the apples, bananas, dolphins, and&lt;br /&gt;spiders.  They loved reindeers, Chihuahuas.&lt;br /&gt;They loved foxes and tigers. They loved&lt;br /&gt;kangaroos.  They loved frogs, books, and dogs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;They Loved&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Ammy O.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They loved elephants, dolphins, and frogs.&lt;br /&gt;They loved pigs, the color pink and the park.&lt;br /&gt;They loved game boys, pokemon movies, and sports.&lt;br /&gt;They loved art, scary movies, and video games.&lt;br /&gt;They loved Barbies, cycling, and tacos.&lt;br /&gt;They loved butterflies, makeup, and going to work.&lt;br /&gt;They loved swimming, cycling, and sports.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;3rd Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;They Loved&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Emily M.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They loved trees, clouds, seashells&lt;br /&gt;and the sound of the sea at night.&lt;br /&gt;They loved Italian food and&lt;br /&gt;spaghetti. They loved cats, books,&lt;br /&gt;plants, and wood.  They loved paper,&lt;br /&gt;crayons, chalk, and words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Loving&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Charles B.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They loved Stone Cold Steve Austin,&lt;br /&gt;Triple H Shawn Michaels, and the rest&lt;br /&gt;of the WWE.  They loved watches that&lt;br /&gt;said DX.  They loved the wind bursting&lt;br /&gt;in your face.  They loved jumping&lt;br /&gt;off tall buildings.  They loved playing&lt;br /&gt;golf off a gigantic tower.  They&lt;br /&gt;loved dogs guarding the White House.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;They Loved WWE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Cyrus M.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The loved WWE, Mom, books&lt;br /&gt;and Dad.  They loved John Cena.&lt;br /&gt;They loved the sky, rain, the wind,&lt;br /&gt;Mick Faley, and the sun.  They loved&lt;br /&gt;Dr. Stero, Dr. Seuss, and DX. &lt;br /&gt;They loved Undertaker and shells.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;They Loved&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Celene H.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They loved Zac Effron, puppies, horses,&lt;br /&gt;Mom, Dad, and school.  They loved lions,&lt;br /&gt;books, baby cheetahs.  They loved&lt;br /&gt;the sky, the zoo, and dogs in hats.  They loved&lt;br /&gt;elephants, stars, and they loved today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3072505861161163224-2625248827907188606?l=trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/2625248827907188606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3072505861161163224&amp;postID=2625248827907188606' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/2625248827907188606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/2625248827907188606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/2007/11/what-they-loved.html' title='What They Loved'/><author><name>Cassie Sparkman, Poet in Residence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00472910555378255990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01832723964579778705'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072505861161163224.post-7055516814513766755</id><published>2007-11-16T09:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-16T09:32:48.336-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Animal Origins</title><content type='html'>This week in Poetry, the young writers at Trumbull Elementary read &lt;a href="http://www.eecs.harvard.edu/%7Ekeith/poems/tyger.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Tyger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; by William Blake.  We discussed how Blake is asking the Tyger where he comes from, who made him, and where he took the different parts of himself from.  I asked the students to choose their own animals, and describe them using this questioning method.  Below, a sample of their amazing poems!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;3rd Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ode to a Komodo Dragon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Coleen Q.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O Komodo Dragon, where did&lt;br /&gt;you get your spikes?  Did you&lt;br /&gt;get them from a rose, or somebody’s&lt;br /&gt;hair?  O Komodo Dragon, where&lt;br /&gt;did you get your sharp teeth?&lt;br /&gt;Was it from a shark or snake?&lt;br /&gt;O Komodo Dragon, where do&lt;br /&gt;you live?  Do you live under&lt;br /&gt;a rock or under a tree? &lt;br /&gt;O Komodo Dragon, your tail,&lt;br /&gt;your long tail, where is it from?&lt;br /&gt;Did you steal it from a monkey,&lt;br /&gt;or a snake?  O Komodo Dragon,&lt;br /&gt;you make me wonder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Squirrel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Alesandra P.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Squirrel, you are very pretty.&lt;br /&gt;How did you learn to&lt;br /&gt;climb trees?  Where did you get&lt;br /&gt;your colors from?  Where did&lt;br /&gt;you come from?  I bet you&lt;br /&gt;want nuts.  Who is your mom?&lt;br /&gt;Is your name Fluffy? &lt;br /&gt;Is the tree your home?&lt;br /&gt;Do you have a pet?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Crab’s Origins&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Anahi M.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crabs!  Crabs!  You are so nice but when&lt;br /&gt;people touch you, you bite them with your&lt;br /&gt;claws.  Did you steal your claws from&lt;br /&gt;a bad tiger and a bad lion too?&lt;br /&gt;You are the color red like a human’s&lt;br /&gt;heart.  Why do your eyes look mean?&lt;br /&gt;Why do you live in the ocean?&lt;br /&gt;Why do you like to have sharp claws?&lt;br /&gt;Why do you like red to be in your body?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;2nd Grade (group poems)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Anaconda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anaconda, covered with scales,&lt;br /&gt;did you get your dinner from a human body?&lt;br /&gt;You’re as long as a rope.&lt;br /&gt;Did you get your length from a tall tree’s log?&lt;br /&gt;Anaconda, where did you get your green color?&lt;br /&gt;Did you get it form a leaf?&lt;br /&gt;Anaconda, slivering in the water,&lt;br /&gt;how are you such a good swimmer?&lt;br /&gt;You are so dangerous.&lt;br /&gt;Where did you get your sharp teeth?&lt;br /&gt;Did a dentist give them to you?&lt;br /&gt;Anaconda, you strangle your prey.&lt;br /&gt;Did you get your strength from a shark’s mouth?&lt;br /&gt;We are afraid of you, harmful Anaconda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cheetah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Sammy, Jalyssa, Robert, Erica, Giovanni, Nathan, Felix, and Faith&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheetah, you are so big.&lt;br /&gt;Did you borrow your size from an elephant&lt;br /&gt;or a rhino? Cheetah, you are so energetic.&lt;br /&gt;Did you get it from the summer air,&lt;br /&gt;or did you steal if from flowing water?&lt;br /&gt;Cheetah, your yellow fur is beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;Did it come from spring sun grass?&lt;br /&gt;Where did you get your claws?&lt;br /&gt;Did you take them from Wolverine,&lt;br /&gt;or from a swampy alligator?&lt;br /&gt;Did you get your pink paws&lt;br /&gt;from the nose of a bear?&lt;br /&gt;Where did you get your eyes?&lt;br /&gt;Did you take the light from the sun?&lt;br /&gt;Cheetah, did you get your long, wiggly tail&lt;br /&gt;from a monkey?  Where did you get your&lt;br /&gt;amazing speed? From a Hummer?&lt;br /&gt;Oh Cheetah, you blend in with your&lt;br /&gt;grassy surroundings like a sneaky spy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;4th Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Turtle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Romario L.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turtle, where did you get&lt;br /&gt;your feet?  Did you get them&lt;br /&gt;from a stick, or a little rock?&lt;br /&gt;Turtle, where did you get your&lt;br /&gt;body?  From a rock, or from&lt;br /&gt;a helmet?  Turtle, where did you get&lt;br /&gt;your noises from, a little bug?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Zebra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Wenny&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zebra! Zebra! running in the cave,&lt;br /&gt;how did you get your pretty legs?&lt;br /&gt;Did you get them from a horse?&lt;br /&gt;Zebra! your fur is very soft.  Did&lt;br /&gt;you get it from a bunny?  Zebra!&lt;br /&gt;Zebra! your fur is black and white.&lt;br /&gt;Did you get your white from&lt;br /&gt;the clouds, your black from&lt;br /&gt;a moon bear?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Elephant&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Rene V.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh Elephant, Elephant, where did you get your&lt;br /&gt;horns?  Did you steal them from a bull?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where did you get that trunk?&lt;br /&gt;Did you take it from the mammoth&lt;br /&gt;when it went extinct?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How did you get so big?&lt;br /&gt;Did you steal it from the sky or the clouds?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where did you get that common noise?&lt;br /&gt;Did you get it from thunder roaring?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How did you get that skin? &lt;br /&gt;Did you take it from a rhino?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where id you get the shape&lt;br /&gt;of your feet?  Was it from a dino?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where did you get that skinny tail?&lt;br /&gt;Is it from a pencil?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh Elephant, you are the best.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3072505861161163224-7055516814513766755?l=trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/7055516814513766755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3072505861161163224&amp;postID=7055516814513766755' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/7055516814513766755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/7055516814513766755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/2007/11/animal-origins.html' title='Animal Origins'/><author><name>Cassie Sparkman, Poet in Residence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00472910555378255990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01832723964579778705'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072505861161163224.post-8422680375437960665</id><published>2007-11-09T07:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T07:07:46.916-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Delight Songs</title><content type='html'>This week, we read a poem called &lt;a href="http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-delight-song-of-tsoai-talee/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Delight Song of Tsoai-Talee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; by N. Scott Momaday.  We talked about describing the self using metaphor, and trying to give our reader a good picture of who we are without coming out and telling them.  We also talked about what it means to "stand in good relation" to something or someone, and the student poets were asked to end their poems with at least two things in the world &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;they&lt;/span&gt; stand in good relation to.  The poems turned out beautifully.  Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;2nd Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What I Am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Nicole B.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am the fish who glitters around the deep blue sea.&lt;br /&gt;I am a flower that is beautiful as a butterfly’s wings.&lt;br /&gt;I am a rabbit that jumps in the stars and the moon.&lt;br /&gt;I am a cake that is very, very yummy in a birthday party.&lt;br /&gt;I am a dancer like the trees who are blown by the wind.&lt;br /&gt;I stand in good relation to God.&lt;br /&gt;I stand in good relation to my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Sun&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Richard R.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a penny that is rolling down the street.&lt;br /&gt;I am a ball that is gold in the sky.&lt;br /&gt;I am a wheel that is in the sky.&lt;br /&gt;I am a feather in the sky.&lt;br /&gt;I am a fish that is rolling in the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My Good Poem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Jalyssa M.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a cloud that is trying not to block the sun.&lt;br /&gt;I am a big birthday cake, and children blow my candles out.&lt;br /&gt;I am a flower that smells good.&lt;br /&gt;I am a tree giving the ear air.&lt;br /&gt;I am a big pumpkin.  I have a big pumpkin stem&lt;br /&gt;and children can buy me from the store.&lt;br /&gt;I stand in good relation to my best friend, God.&lt;br /&gt;I stand in good relation to my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;4th Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I Am Everything&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Jellisa A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a fish in the deep blue sea.&lt;br /&gt;I am a cheetah running like the wind.&lt;br /&gt;I am a chair.  People sit on me.&lt;br /&gt;I am a monster scaring little kids.&lt;br /&gt;I am a desk.  People write on me.&lt;br /&gt;I am a banana.  I am yellow.  People love eating me.&lt;br /&gt;I am a book with cool pictures.&lt;br /&gt;I am a computer.  People make me have viruses.&lt;br /&gt;I am a red crayon coloring a big heart.&lt;br /&gt;I am a dog in the forest.&lt;br /&gt;I stand in good relation to my family and friends.&lt;br /&gt;I stand in good relation to animals: dogs, cats, fish, and snakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I Am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Elizabeth C.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a lonely licorice in a jar, waiting for people to eat me.&lt;br /&gt;I am a duckling ready to hatch.&lt;br /&gt;I am the sun that shines on everyone.&lt;br /&gt;I am an eagle soaring in the sky.&lt;br /&gt;I am the water that runs into bathtubs.&lt;br /&gt;I am a polar bear standing in the blanche, sparkling snow.&lt;br /&gt;I am the paw of a dog that he uses to walk.&lt;br /&gt;I am a book with lots of wonderful things inside me.&lt;br /&gt;I am an eagle that is laying eggs.&lt;br /&gt;I am a lion that loves to eat meat.&lt;br /&gt;I stand in good relation to a beautiful red rose in a garden of weeds.&lt;br /&gt;I stand in good relation to our God that is always watching us from the sky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I Am Everything&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Shaylene A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a famous singer.&lt;br /&gt;I am a grown tree with different colored leaves.&lt;br /&gt;I am a cheetah with different colored polka dots.&lt;br /&gt;I am a pencil writing in a notebook my name 100 times.&lt;br /&gt;I am a big dictionary with lots of information.  That’s why I’m smart.&lt;br /&gt;I am a golden fish dancing.&lt;br /&gt;I am a window watching everything in the sky pass.&lt;br /&gt;I am a stop sign because I want everybody to listen to me.&lt;br /&gt;I am a squirrel eating lots of nuts.&lt;br /&gt;I am a big, bright star that lights the night.&lt;br /&gt;I stand in good relation to a watermelon, because I wear pink and red sweaters.&lt;br /&gt;I stand in good relation to my computer, because I am smart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;3rd Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Words Imagination&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Giovanni L.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a monkey and a tree branch.&lt;br /&gt;I am a weather people do not like, like when it rains.&lt;br /&gt;I am a season people like to play in, like when it snows.&lt;br /&gt;I am a brown kid walking on a floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What I Am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Samantha D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a puppy searching for a friend.&lt;br /&gt;I am a bat that is ice.&lt;br /&gt;I am the water in my swimming pool with people inside me.&lt;br /&gt;I am a bride playing with bugs.&lt;br /&gt;I am a sharpener sharpening a pencil.&lt;br /&gt;I am ice melting into water.&lt;br /&gt;I am paper with beautiful colors.&lt;br /&gt;I am crayons being used.&lt;br /&gt;I am a book being read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I Am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Brandon B.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a palm tree in the sky.&lt;br /&gt;I am a cat looking for blue fish in the water.&lt;br /&gt;I am a lion roaring in the forest.&lt;br /&gt;I am a very friendly fish.&lt;br /&gt;I am a crowd saying WOW.&lt;br /&gt;I am a bird going high.&lt;br /&gt;I am a King guarding my crown.&lt;br /&gt;I am a ferocious beast that flies and eats meat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I Am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Shirley L.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a tiger hunting for food.&lt;br /&gt;I am a dolphin swimming the sea.&lt;br /&gt;I am a teacher teaching a class.&lt;br /&gt;I am a mermaid swimming underwater with a goldfish.&lt;br /&gt;I am a monkey eating a banana.&lt;br /&gt;I am a girl writing a poem.&lt;br /&gt;I am an eagle flying in the sky.&lt;br /&gt;I am a lion sleeping on a rock.&lt;br /&gt;I am a goose flying a winter sky.&lt;br /&gt;I am a dog digging for something.&lt;br /&gt;I am a detective solving a mystery.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3072505861161163224-8422680375437960665?l=trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/8422680375437960665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3072505861161163224&amp;postID=8422680375437960665' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/8422680375437960665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/8422680375437960665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/2007/11/delight-songs.html' title='Delight Songs'/><author><name>Cassie Sparkman, Poet in Residence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00472910555378255990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01832723964579778705'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072505861161163224.post-9215987522649063280</id><published>2007-11-04T13:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-04T13:40:44.210-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Concrete Poems</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Jysu1vERfVg/Ry47r0HXCGI/AAAAAAAAACM/vl8B1p2LE8k/s1600-h/+AmandaPTheCat"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Jysu1vERfVg/Ry47r0HXCGI/AAAAAAAAACM/vl8B1p2LE8k/s320/+AmandaPTheCat" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129102649531500642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Tuesday, October 30, the day before Halloween, the Trumbull Student Poets learned about Concrete Poetry, poetry that creates the shape of an object on the page using words which describe that object. The students were asked to focus on an object that made them think of the Fall season. Many chose Halloween topics, as we were so close to the holiday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Cat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Amanda P.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Jysu1vERfVg/Ry47nkHXCFI/AAAAAAAAACE/DqJO_wL6Dfo/s1600-h/thehotthing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Jysu1vERfVg/Ry47nkHXCFI/AAAAAAAAACE/DqJO_wL6Dfo/s320/thehotthing.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129102576517056594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Hot Thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Jysu1vERfVg/Ry47j0HXCEI/AAAAAAAAAB8/f4nBkBmPDbA/s1600-h/JelissaAGhost.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Jysu1vERfVg/Ry47j0HXCEI/AAAAAAAAAB8/f4nBkBmPDbA/s320/JelissaAGhost.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129102512092547138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;White Ghost!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;by Jelissa A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Jysu1vERfVg/Ry47gUHXCDI/AAAAAAAAAB0/2xq6XlrpwTk/s1600-h/RValenzuelaCandy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Jysu1vERfVg/Ry47gUHXCDI/AAAAAAAAAB0/2xq6XlrpwTk/s320/RValenzuelaCandy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129102451963004978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Candy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By Rene V.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Jysu1vERfVg/Ry469UHXCBI/AAAAAAAAABk/6mBUKKf0UEo/s1600-h/ShirleyLPumpkin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Jysu1vERfVg/Ry469UHXCBI/AAAAAAAAABk/6mBUKKf0UEo/s320/ShirleyLPumpkin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129101850667583506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My Pumpkin Poem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Shirley L.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3072505861161163224-9215987522649063280?l=trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/9215987522649063280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3072505861161163224&amp;postID=9215987522649063280' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/9215987522649063280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/9215987522649063280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/2007/11/concrete-poems.html' title='Concrete Poems'/><author><name>Cassie Sparkman, Poet in Residence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00472910555378255990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01832723964579778705'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Jysu1vERfVg/Ry47r0HXCGI/AAAAAAAAACM/vl8B1p2LE8k/s72-c/+AmandaPTheCat' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072505861161163224.post-8779371536277439420</id><published>2007-10-30T08:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-30T08:08:32.740-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Purple Thing From Timbuktu</title><content type='html'>For their fourth writing assignment, we contemplated Wallace Stevens's poem &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Someone Puts a Pineapple Together, &lt;/span&gt;and talked about transformation of one thing into another thing, allowing our eyes to see the world in a whole new way.  The students were presented with a purple cabbage, and asked to transform it into new things multiple times, using their best descriptive powers.  They created some amazing poems!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;3rd grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Purple Thing that Smells like Onion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Santiago D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A giant balloon from space&lt;br /&gt;flying, a soccer ball playing&lt;br /&gt;in a soccer field, a sphere cut in&lt;br /&gt;half, the inside a lobster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A Purple Thing Transforms&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Noemi R.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A giant rock chasing an alien.&lt;br /&gt;A seed growing.  A leaf falling down&lt;br /&gt;a tree.  A paper crushed out.  A tree&lt;br /&gt;with a lot of leaves.  A lettuce broken&lt;br /&gt;in half.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What it Reminds Me Of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by David G.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A coconut in a tree.&lt;br /&gt;I see a rock in the sea.&lt;br /&gt;I see a turtle shell in the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see a leaf in the fall&lt;br /&gt;falling from the tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It looks like an onion&lt;br /&gt;about to be eaten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inside, it looks like&lt;br /&gt;a plant in a fossil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Purple Thing from Timbuktu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Mathew P.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A giant balloon floating into space.&lt;br /&gt;A humongous ball falling out of the sky.&lt;br /&gt;A large purple ball flying into the goal.&lt;br /&gt;A dinosaur egg just hatched yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;A purple ball cut in half.&lt;br /&gt;A triple piece of fruit cut last year.&lt;br /&gt;A sphere cut in half last month.&lt;br /&gt;The inside looks like a lobster.&lt;br /&gt;A ball cut and put in the refrigerator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;2nd Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Purple Cabbage&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Nicole B.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The brain is dancing on a&lt;br /&gt;girl’s head, named Erelie.&lt;br /&gt;A purple hat on my head.&lt;br /&gt;A dark but pretty day&lt;br /&gt;with a little tree.  It feels like&lt;br /&gt;a curly head too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It is What You See&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Nicolas Leon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see a brain rolling in a race.&lt;br /&gt;A ball that you put in a&lt;br /&gt;rocket for a battery.&lt;br /&gt;It is a builder’s helmet&lt;br /&gt;and a cannon ball.&lt;br /&gt;It is a tornado in the&lt;br /&gt;city, a bug in the sand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Magical Cabbage&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Rosalyn P.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A tree to a castle with a wand and&lt;br /&gt;a hat to a big home.&lt;br /&gt;A leaf to a new room, a book to a dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;4th grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A Red Cabbage&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Josu S.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A small violet mask with&lt;br /&gt;lines all over.&lt;br /&gt;A small bomb ready to blow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An old man’s face that is really wrinkled.&lt;br /&gt;A black ball stuck on a tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A bald man’s wig that fell on the street.&lt;br /&gt;A Jewish man’s hat on top of his head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A black rock with a white crab on top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A black sky behind a white tree.&lt;br /&gt;A clam in the ocean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Mysterious Ball&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Nicole B.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It looks like a world of evil darkness with villains destroying.&lt;br /&gt;Like a black ball in the game thrown high in the air.&lt;br /&gt;Like a head in the nurse’s room turning all purple.&lt;br /&gt;It is a wrinkled ruby that once belonged to a goddess.&lt;br /&gt;It is also like a hat meant to be worn.&lt;br /&gt;It is like a circle mountain climbed by special people.&lt;br /&gt;Like a shell of a dead bug that was in the caves.&lt;br /&gt;Like dead leaves in the Travern Woods.&lt;br /&gt;Like a hermit crab hiding in its shell on the beach.&lt;br /&gt;Like a tree growing out of a bowl.&lt;br /&gt;Just like a cake with candles inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Magic Cabbage Transforming&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Jennifer B.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man’s head coming out of the barber shop.&lt;br /&gt;An alien’s head landing on the moon.&lt;br /&gt;A flower sprouting it’s leaves like a butterfly coming out of its cocoon.&lt;br /&gt;A pumping thing that squirts out blood.&lt;br /&gt;A person’s head popped out like an egg cracking.&lt;br /&gt;A hot dog’s bun without the sausage.&lt;br /&gt;A ball with boiling purple water and bubbles.&lt;br /&gt;A tree with many leaves bunched up in a big oval.&lt;br /&gt;A weird animal stretching its hands and legs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3072505861161163224-8779371536277439420?l=trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/8779371536277439420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3072505861161163224&amp;postID=8779371536277439420' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/8779371536277439420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/8779371536277439420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/2007/10/purple-thing-from-timbuktu.html' title='The Purple Thing From Timbuktu'/><author><name>Cassie Sparkman, Poet in Residence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00472910555378255990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01832723964579778705'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072505861161163224.post-5100813620794977117</id><published>2007-10-30T07:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-30T07:59:40.627-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Runaway Chihuahua: Crazy Letters</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;For our third class, the students looked at &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Vowels: After Rimbaud&lt;/span&gt;, a poem that gives clear, descriptive images for each of the vowels in the alphabet.  The student poets at Trumbull were asked to choose and animal or their name in order to choose their letters, and then give vivid descriptions of what popped into their minds on thinking about those letters.  The poems turned out really well.  Look for that Chihuahua!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;3rd Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Sky&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Isaac A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I is the same as me.&lt;br /&gt;G looks like an umbrella.&lt;br /&gt;U is a swing.&lt;br /&gt;A is as shiny as the sun.&lt;br /&gt;N is a noisy letter.&lt;br /&gt;A looks like an O.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Things I Make Up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Khalid W.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T is a batch of potatoes.&lt;br /&gt;I is the smell of grapes.&lt;br /&gt;G is a game of sound.&lt;br /&gt;E is an elephant eating skittles candy.&lt;br /&gt;R is a rainbow touching the sky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The LION&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by David F.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L is a lizard walking on a rock.&lt;br /&gt;I is a green apple that is sweet.&lt;br /&gt;O is an orange, juicy and nice.&lt;br /&gt;N is a napkin, soft or hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Good Poem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Kiara T.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A is a puppy on it’s couch.&lt;br /&gt;E is a buzzing fly and smells like a bug.&lt;br /&gt;I is the ocean and it sounds like the sea.&lt;br /&gt;O is an octopus and it sounds squishy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;4th Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Letters&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Allan F.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D smells like green tea.&lt;br /&gt;D looks like an eraser erasing everything as fast as it can.&lt;br /&gt;O is a zero in its spot.&lt;br /&gt;O smells like pumpkin.&lt;br /&gt;G looks like a car in the wheel.&lt;br /&gt;G smells like a piece of cinnamon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Wonder Word&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Tanayra B.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T is a small tree waiting to grow, an arrow pointing at a wall.&lt;br /&gt;A is a red apple, is a pretzel.&lt;br /&gt;N is a pink shoe, is a ruler.&lt;br /&gt;A is a slide, waiting to have run, is a friend.&lt;br /&gt;Y is a root smelling like grass, but is a flower.&lt;br /&gt;R is a rose, a purple U upside down.&lt;br /&gt;A is two pencils put together, is a triangle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Dogs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Oyuki A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D is a doughnut in the vat,&lt;br /&gt;is a rotten kiwi that&lt;br /&gt;smells like a dead rat.&lt;br /&gt;O is a cat’s soft fur,&lt;br /&gt;is a good tasting&lt;br /&gt;taco.&lt;br /&gt;G is a man hearing a&lt;br /&gt;mouse squeaking,&lt;br /&gt;is a woman watching&lt;br /&gt;a mouse dance at&lt;br /&gt;midnight.&lt;br /&gt;S is a wolf wooing&lt;br /&gt;at dawn,&lt;br /&gt;is a mouse watching TV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Zachary&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Zachary T.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Z is a zebra black and white.&lt;br /&gt;Z is a zipper zipping up a jacket.&lt;br /&gt;A is a red juicy apple.&lt;br /&gt;A is an alligator chomping dragonflies.&lt;br /&gt;C is a cat smelling cheese.&lt;br /&gt;C is a cat watching a mouse.&lt;br /&gt;H is a hat, blue, red, and black.&lt;br /&gt;H is a happy boy tasting an ice cream.&lt;br /&gt;A is April raining so hard.&lt;br /&gt;A is a cheesy hot pizza.&lt;br /&gt;R is a rat smelling up the place.&lt;br /&gt;R is a boy that ran track.&lt;br /&gt;Y is New York with tall buildings.&lt;br /&gt;Y is a yo-yo going up and down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;2nd Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Good Letters&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Cedric E.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C is a fat man sleeping on a cot.&lt;br /&gt;E is a fox running to his mama.&lt;br /&gt;D is a dragon blowing fire.&lt;br /&gt;R is a puppy eating ice cream.&lt;br /&gt;I is a fire keeping a man warm.&lt;br /&gt;C is a cow squirting milk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Mixed Up Letters&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Ammy O.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A is an apple in a tree staring at the sun.&lt;br /&gt;M is a moon shining in the night sky.&lt;br /&gt;M is a monkey swinging from vine to vine.&lt;br /&gt;Y is a yo-yo rolling up and down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Letters&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Maritza S.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M is a girl eating an apple.&lt;br /&gt;A is an apple, juicy, smelling like bananas.&lt;br /&gt;R is a raccoon that is in the woods.&lt;br /&gt;I is green and smells like summer grass.&lt;br /&gt;T is like a tiger in the jungle.&lt;br /&gt;Z is for a zebra in the zoo.&lt;br /&gt;A is red and smells like firewood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Runaway Chihuahua&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Felix A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;F is an astronaut playing a video game&lt;br /&gt;in a spaceship and the moon is blue.&lt;br /&gt;E is a bear eating sweet yellow honey.&lt;br /&gt;L is a soccer game with&lt;br /&gt;hundreds of people wearing red shirts.&lt;br /&gt;I is the red collar of a dog with fleas.&lt;br /&gt;X is a girl getting scared&lt;br /&gt;on Halloween night and getting&lt;br /&gt;lots and lots of candy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3072505861161163224-5100813620794977117?l=trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/5100813620794977117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3072505861161163224&amp;postID=5100813620794977117' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/5100813620794977117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/5100813620794977117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/2007/10/runaway-chihuahua-crazy-letters.html' title='The Runaway Chihuahua: Crazy Letters'/><author><name>Cassie Sparkman, Poet in Residence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00472910555378255990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01832723964579778705'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072505861161163224.post-5544347256620786884</id><published>2007-10-30T07:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-30T07:52:50.739-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Creatures from The Deep</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;For our second class, the students studied photos from Claire Nouvain's book &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);" href="http://www.thedeepbook.org/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Deep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;, and wrote poems describing the amazing creatures they saw.  I also had some photos of more conventional sea creatures, like seahorses, sea urchins, whales, octopi, and sharks.  Click on the link above, and then "Image Gallery" to see images, and be amazed!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4th Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Green Thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Martitha A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It looks like a green planet at&lt;br /&gt;the bottom of the sea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s a green ball.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It looks like a new planet&lt;br /&gt;with little aliens’ lips and teeth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is like a volleyball&lt;br /&gt;that we play with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It looks like a green thing&lt;br /&gt;that is going to destroy&lt;br /&gt;the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Great Plant Dragon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Ataib S.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a large seadragon&lt;br /&gt;that has plant DNA and&lt;br /&gt;that seadragon is called&lt;br /&gt;The Great Plant Dragon.&lt;br /&gt;It has been living&lt;br /&gt;for thousands of years, it&lt;br /&gt;can even eat one thousand&lt;br /&gt;sharks in one day!  It is a great&lt;br /&gt;mystery.  It looks like a&lt;br /&gt;horse with plant hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Thing that Lives in the Deep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Brandon R.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing looks like a banana&lt;br /&gt;but with fire, shiny as the&lt;br /&gt;wide sun being shined each&lt;br /&gt;and every day.  The top looks like&lt;br /&gt;the top of a candle.&lt;br /&gt;The end is blazing more&lt;br /&gt;than a match set on fire&lt;br /&gt;in the forest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ping-Pong Tree Sponge&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Henry L.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A plant that lives in the dark&lt;br /&gt;depths of Despair.  Like bubbles&lt;br /&gt;stuck on a tree.  An unusual spider&lt;br /&gt;crawling on the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It captures fish inside of&lt;br /&gt;the bubbles.  A scientist is&lt;br /&gt;working on a project.&lt;br /&gt;The project burst.  Like a&lt;br /&gt;bird, if flew into the ocean,&lt;br /&gt;never seen again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glowing in the dark water.&lt;br /&gt;Finding its way back to the ocean top.&lt;br /&gt;It could not find its way.  So scared.&lt;br /&gt;Make a root and stick it in the&lt;br /&gt;soil.  No one ever sees it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;2nd Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Seahorse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Erica N.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is like a skeleton, this sea horse&lt;br /&gt;living under water.  It is blue or yellow or red&lt;br /&gt;or grey or black.  It has a little fin.&lt;br /&gt;It floats really small.  It has&lt;br /&gt;a small mouth and it swims.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Seahorse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Eric C.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It looks like a house without legs&lt;br /&gt;and it is bright orange.&lt;br /&gt;It blends with the plants.&lt;br /&gt;If something tries to eat it,&lt;br /&gt;it swims away very fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Like a Ship&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Nelvin P.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is orange and small, like a ship.&lt;br /&gt;It is like a dish.&lt;br /&gt;It lives in the ocean.&lt;br /&gt;It eats little rocks that are the color brown&lt;br /&gt;and it has no bones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;3rd Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A Monster&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Eric P.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is red like fire in a&lt;br /&gt;building.  It looks like&lt;br /&gt;a plant floating in the&lt;br /&gt;water.  It has no eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Crazy Thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Prue M.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A human eye bulging out so&lt;br /&gt;bad.  A small balloon exploded.  An orange&lt;br /&gt;foot.  I also see four feet.  A number 8.&lt;br /&gt;A pink polka dot.  A nose sticking&lt;br /&gt;out like Pinocchio’s.  A fish tail&lt;br /&gt;stuck on its body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Red Thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Coleen Q.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a red star.  It has&lt;br /&gt;little red juicy raspberries.&lt;br /&gt;A decoration for a Christmas&lt;br /&gt;tree.  It is a fire star in the&lt;br /&gt;ocean that doesn’t last.  A red,&lt;br /&gt;beautiful star.  A red pom-pom&lt;br /&gt;starfish.  It moves softly&lt;br /&gt;through the coral reef.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;From the Deep Ocean&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Ulisess M.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s a hammer, a&lt;br /&gt;boomerang tail, a gilled&lt;br /&gt;beast, a mad&lt;br /&gt;fish, a fin pointed&lt;br /&gt;cold blooded marine&lt;br /&gt;animal.  It’s blue.&lt;br /&gt;It’s going to&lt;br /&gt;eat you, it is&lt;br /&gt;in it’s territory&lt;br /&gt;warning others&lt;br /&gt;to stay out.&lt;br /&gt;It’s a hammer&lt;br /&gt;head shark!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3072505861161163224-5544347256620786884?l=trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/5544347256620786884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3072505861161163224&amp;postID=5544347256620786884' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/5544347256620786884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/5544347256620786884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/2007/10/creatures-from-deep.html' title='Creatures from The Deep'/><author><name>Cassie Sparkman, Poet in Residence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00472910555378255990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01832723964579778705'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072505861161163224.post-1732668876316825866</id><published>2007-10-30T07:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-30T07:45:37.241-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First Class: Magic Boats and Lists of Days</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;During my first visit to Trumbull, the Second Grade class wrote poems after reading &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sonnet&lt;/span&gt; by Dante Aligheri, which talks about what he would do if he had a magic boat.  The students wrote poems describing where they would go, and what adventures they would have.  The Third and Fourth grade students read &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Magic&lt;/span&gt; by Dahlia Ravakovitch, and wrote poems detailing what they were yesterday, what they are today, and what they will be tomorrow.  They created these descriptions using their feelings, and thinking about how they could describe those feelings using something out in the world.  Enjoy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2nd Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Beautiful in California&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Jalyssa M.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish that me, my brothers and sisters, and Mom and Dad could go to California.  When we get there, it is beautiful.  I ask my mom to go swimming.  After we go swimming, we go to a hotel and check out a room.  We watch TV, and then we go to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;To the Bat Cave&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Nathan P.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to the Bat Cave.&lt;br /&gt;I will bring my family.&lt;br /&gt;It looks like a very dark cave&lt;br /&gt;with bats and monsters.&lt;br /&gt;All of the animals are ghosts.&lt;br /&gt;We play with the animals&lt;br /&gt;and the animals don’t hurt us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Las Vegas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Faith H.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to Las Vegas and it was very beautiful there.  I went with my friends and I saw shorts.  I stayed in a hotel.  I went to a restaurant and I bought a lot of stuff.  It looked like you were surrounded by shorts and it was so hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;4th Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What am I Today?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Aven D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I’m a bird,&lt;br /&gt;tomorrow a cat&lt;br /&gt;looking for a&lt;br /&gt;cat to play&lt;br /&gt;with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I dreamt&lt;br /&gt;rainbows, butterflies,&lt;br /&gt;orange fishes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the evening, I&lt;br /&gt;listened to the water&lt;br /&gt;floating by and birds&lt;br /&gt;singing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I was&lt;br /&gt;water floating by the&lt;br /&gt;sea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I was a&lt;br /&gt;chair that was just lying&lt;br /&gt;there.  Today I’m a&lt;br /&gt;tree that grows&lt;br /&gt;and tomorrow I’ll&lt;br /&gt;be a person just&lt;br /&gt;running along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I am a Net Battler&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Henry L.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I am Megaman&lt;br /&gt;blasting viruses on the internet.&lt;br /&gt;Deleting them, using chips for&lt;br /&gt;special attacks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, I will be Protoman,&lt;br /&gt;slicing bad guys.&lt;br /&gt;Deleting them, dodging what&lt;br /&gt;the bad guys throw at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I was dreaming&lt;br /&gt;about unusual viruses.&lt;br /&gt;Today I think of being&lt;br /&gt;Darkman. He is evil.  Maybe&lt;br /&gt;I won’t be him.  I will be&lt;br /&gt;Wingman.  Tomorrow Protoman&lt;br /&gt;will delete all the viruses&lt;br /&gt;in the Net.  No more viruses&lt;br /&gt;in the Net, no more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Everything I Am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Jessica S.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I’m a flower,&lt;br /&gt;tomorrow a rock.&lt;br /&gt;Always thinking&lt;br /&gt;of seeds clicking together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I dreamt&lt;br /&gt;of flowers of all colors,&lt;br /&gt;pink, brown, green, and so&lt;br /&gt;much more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I’m a nice calm tiger,&lt;br /&gt;tomorrow an oak tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday a butterfly&lt;br /&gt;today a book.  Tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;I’ll be a beautiful horse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;3rd Grade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;How I Feel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Brandon R.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I’m a drum, tomorrow I’m a&lt;br /&gt;mouse. I dreamed of a valley.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I listened to the ocean.  It was&lt;br /&gt;a nice day.  It was great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A babbling brook was music to my&lt;br /&gt;ears.  I dreamed of oceans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I am a rock, tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;I am a sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday a mountain,&lt;br /&gt;today I am Earth.&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I am space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What I Am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Amanda P.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I’m a lion,&lt;br /&gt;tomorrow a turtle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dreamt of blue butterflies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I listened to parakeets chatter,&lt;br /&gt;dog banging on the cage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I am a book,&lt;br /&gt;tomorrow a snake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday a sticker,&lt;br /&gt;today I’m a fox.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Stuff I Do Today and Tomorrow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Almir N.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I felt a little loud,&lt;br /&gt;today I feel hot like&lt;br /&gt;a sun.  Tomorrow I feel like&lt;br /&gt;snow.  I listen to a wrestling song&lt;br /&gt;in the sky.  I dream about&lt;br /&gt;being a wrestler.  Today I feel like&lt;br /&gt;John Cena.  Tomorrow I feel like&lt;br /&gt;Triple H.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3072505861161163224-1732668876316825866?l=trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/1732668876316825866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3072505861161163224&amp;postID=1732668876316825866' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/1732668876316825866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3072505861161163224/posts/default/1732668876316825866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trumbullschoolpoetry.blogspot.com/2007/10/first-class-magic-boats-and-lists-of.html' title='First Class: Magic Boats and Lists of Days'/><author><name>Cassie Sparkman, Poet in Residence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00472910555378255990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01832723964579778705'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>