Poetry Competition Winning Poems 2013-2014

2014 Winning Poems

Dark Wonder
Abbey Cameranesi, Grade 5, Grafton Elementary School
Teacher: Mary Beth Wild

Space is beautiful.
With glowing stars.
Rocks flow by
Like fireflies in the night.

We are stargazers.
As we watch,
We stare. We
See something up there.

Everything is different,
Than how it is on Earth,
As it is in space.

Rocks are a journey,
Take you places.
Rocks always have
A journey behind them.
They take you to the
Past so, like your life,
Make it last.

People see rocks
And they see beauty
Like we are deep
Down, we are
Beautiful, kind, unique.
Space is beautiful
With glowing stars
Rocks flow by like
Fireflies in the night.

Journey from Home
Anika Gebauer, Grade 6, Milwaukee Montessori School
Teacher: Mary Berenschot

They drag
They drag the beautiful history,
The beautiful history from its home.
Through the sands of ages,
The beautiful history,
Through the rich sands of ages,
A sarcophagus as lovely as
The stars on a moonless night,
Dragged by a satisfied team,
A team of archaeologists
So satisfied they could jump
For joy, dragging the mummy
On a journey,
To its new home,
Away from the sands
The sands of ages,
The rich sands of the ages.

Light—Roman Oil Lamp
Ava Gessner, Grade 4, Golda Meir School
Teacher: Jill Opie

Snakes slither as the light is born.
Lead me through the dark.
Charred but not, smooth, but rough,
Your light will always blaze.
No matter how many times you’re hurt,
The beauty will stay engraved.
Circles and lines, snakes all around.
The light will never fade.
Burns, holes, no matter what—
Keep blazing. We’re almost there.
Snakes keep going,
Lines keep swirling.
I won’t let the light fade.
Although we’ve arrived,
The light will always blaze.
But for now it needs to rest,
Until it is lit again.

Rain Forest Jaguar
Manus Grumley, Grade 5, Grafton Elementary School
Teacher: Mary Beth Wild

Jaguar coming home
On a very long journey.
Home destroyed by men.
The forest looked like
A hurricane went through it.

Stumps, branches and rocks.
Luscious trees used to be there.
Puddles of oil
Dotting the ground for miles on.
Cans littering the ground from men.

He moves forward like
A star on a cloudless night,
Only seeing stumps
Wondering what is going on.
He walks forward day and night,

Consumed by sadness.
Finally something good happens:
Those luscious trees appear—
A new home. He sprints forward
Glowing bright as the sun.

2014 Special Commendation

The Lucky Jacket—Dresden Doll WW II Jacket
Paul Johnson, Grade 9, Riverside University High School
Teacher: Whitney Gulbronson

The smell of fuel
The feel of smooth leather
The number of missions
Staff Sergeant Taylor, over Germany
And only one thing stayed the same:
The jacket he wore
With the doll on his back.

Voyage Back to the Dirt—Life of Iranian Ceramics
Sarah Struhar, Grade 12, Arrowhead High School
Teacher: Elizabeth Jorgensen

My voyage begins in the dirt
Where young children run and frolic
True form arises in the rain
Changes from one form to another
A woman from town collects me
She shapes me again, I change
Now shaped, softly places in fire
For three days I sit in flames
After cooling down, she paints me
She puts me for sale with others
But soon after, the soldiers come
Women and children run in fear
Hundreds of brave men stand and fight
Merrily, they destroy my town
They shoot me down and and I shatter
Breaking in thousands of pieces
The frightened people trample me
I dissipate into nothing
My voyage begins in the dirt

A Child’s Siberian Coat
Keara Thomas, Grade 9, Riverside University High School
Teacher: Whitney Gulbronson

Traveling through the Siberian River,
            There’s a school of fish.
                        All looking for something to eat
                                    rustling like leaves on a tree
                                                            protecting, shielding each other from harm.
                                                                     Moving swiftly through the water as
                                                                       they do through the seasons yearly.
                                                                       Until one day they’re caught up in a net,
                                                                       fighting to be free.
                                                                     They’re gutted and skinned,
                                                            Sewn together neatly in layers,
                                    laced with fur for warmth in the cold Siberian winters.
                        Still a school of fish, but now they’re
Connected forever as a child’s Siberian coat.