
Harpswell Community School fourth and fifth graders are the poets for the June edition of “Poems from Home.” (ABIGAIL SVENSON PHOTO)
For this edition of “Poems from Home,” I spent some time reading and writing poems with fourth and fifth graders at Harpswell Community School. April was National Poetry Month — a perfect time to break out some Shel Silverstein, Mary Oliver, Gary Lawless and poems of our own invention.
What’s refreshing about elementary school kids is their ability to take a single word and create an entire world inspired by it. Someone suggested the word “burger” as a jumping-off point; someone else suggested “rain” (it was pouring that day). From these simple beginnings, we have lines like Jackson Ramsay’s “the crunch of the pickle / and the spice of the onion” and Marin Larsen’s “Let it soak the dry, thirsty earth / Negative thoughts only make it pour.” In her poem, “Singing,” Maya Wallace plays with the word pour: “The words pour out, unplanned and feeling unplain.”
Some of the students spun their own ideas into verses, unprompted by words we selected as a group. Metaphors about the ocean on our doorstep; stories of cats, tigers, zombies. One that stood out to me in its evocative simplicity was Naytalia Barter’s “Day and Night.”
At its origins, poetry is storytelling in a form that can be remembered and passed on. Here are some stories straight from the perceptive minds of some 9- to 11-year-olds who live among us. May they entertain and delight.
The Ocean Is One of Us
By London Matthews
The ocean is like me.
Why, can’t you see?
The ocean throws a fuss with the waves,
Like little brother, Gus.
The ocean has emotions, too,
Like younger sister, Sue.
The ocean has clothes;
The foam and seaweed make a ball gown,
Like older sister, Dawn.
I Am a Cat
By B.J. Jones
I am a cat
full of laziness,
full of touching and sound,
making noise,
full of wishes about
catnip and fish,
full of running when my owner
turns on the water,
and full of chasing butterflies
and mice and lasers.
I am proud to be a funny-looking cat.
The Burger
By Jackson Ramsay
The grease from the burger,
It drips down from the burger,
Into my mouth,
And the taste of the juicy flavor,
And the crunch of the pickle,
And the spice of the onions.
Singing
By Maya Wallace
My lips move as the sweet harmony
that comes out of my throat is at play.
The words pour out, unplanned
and feeling unplain.
Finding the best verses to breathe
while my knees feel as stiff as bees.
My arms flow freely as I move to the beat
that comes out of me.
Even though it’s amazing,
I never knew I had it in me.
Zombie Invasion
By Brody Bichrest
We had a zombie invasion
On my beach vacation,
So I got to the boat,
But it didn’t even float,
So I swam away,
But, wait … I can’t swim
Cheeseburger
By Addison Smith
You look so good
with your fluffy little bun,
and when I taste the cheese,
I feel so numb,
but when I squirt the ketchup
I shatter like glass
and when I add the relish,
you are safe at last.
Wait! What did you say?
It’s dinnertime!
You tasted so yum!
You are in my tum!
Mmmmmmm!
Tiger
By Bowman Wright
I do not know where I am,
in a woods or on a plain,
But I do know what I am,
I am a tiger,
racing through this place,
after that thing that is just out of my sight.
It darts through the woods,
it hurdles over plains,
so fast that it escapes all my thoughts.
Hello Rain
By Ryan Coulon
Rain says hello by tapping on the windowsill,
by rapping on the roof, dripping along
the clear windows and brick walls, down
down, down. Now we say Hello,
Hello, Hello.
Rain
By Marin Larsen
Rain drips down from the clouds,
As tears down my face.
Ignore it.
Let it soak the dry, thirsty earth.
Negative thoughts only make it pour.
Day and Night
By Naytalia Barter
The sun is red,
The moon is blue,
Either way, I love you, brother.
“Poems from Home” curator Kara Douglas is a writer and yoga teacher who lives in Harpswell with her husband and two daughters. Email her at karadouglas2010@gmail.com.