2007/2008
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Leggett Valley High School 2007/2008 |
The Rejuvenation of Spring
The smell of dewy mint
The calm of blossoms passing with the breeze
The euphoria of reality
The beauty of citrus
The refreshing daze that is spring
The crack of ball on bat
The pitter-patter of flip flops
The bliss of blinding light
The weightlessness
The pip in every step
The purity of wellness
The numbness of feeling
The restart of sensory
The cushion of foliage
The ecstasy of a grass stain
Shelby Kelley
11th Grade, Leggett Valley High
Dan Roberts, Poet Teacher
What Would You Ask Your Ancient Ancestors?
Were you cold on the winter day?
Could you hear the marching outside?
Were there bombs in the sky?
Could you feel the hate in the air?
Did you hear the screams fill up what
you wanted to say?
Would you go back and mourn those who died?
Did you turn back and want to cry?
Would you help them because you did not care?
Would you risk your life to save another?
Would you break your bread for a starving child
and her mother?
Did you fear for your life because you did not follow?
Is that why you escaped with the tears you could not swallow?
Isabel Zavala
12th Grade, Leggett Valley High
Dan Roberts, Poet Teacher
My True Country Poem
The trees grow tall
The ferns are green
Breezy mist covers all
A snatch of wind ruffles the leaves
Creating waves on the grass
The chilled air begins to grieve
Near the crest I climb
My insides all a flutter
My raspy breathing keeping time
One last step to the top
My goal laid out before me
Exhilaration
Julian Quinn
9th Grade, Leggett Valley High
Dan Roberts, Poet Teacher
Native American Ancestry
Foreign white men...
Their type of clothing and awkward ways
To take your land and use your goods
Invading your people, to provide slavery or dominance
What did you do?
How did you react?
Killing your surroundings,
abusing the land
What did you eat?
Where did you sleep?
Setting up camps, burning your villages
Would you go back to reminisce upon your loved ones?
Bringing new ways of living
Forcing a different religion upon you
Such inhumanity and selfish souls
To have to watch your children's tears
Wanting life how it was before
How did you make it through?
Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you did
I just want to know about your past
So these are some questions I
needed to ask.
Billie Ann Shaw
10th Grade, Leggett Valley High
Dan Roberts, Poet Teacher
(untitled)
My true country is where the warm
breeze blows through my hair
where I can hear the waves crash
onto the soft shore.
My true country is where I can
see the birds pick at whatever comes
out of the sea
and where the fish jump
out of the water one by one.
My true country is where I can
feel the sun beating down on
my face.
Where I can feel the smooth
sand slowly get stuck between
my tiny toes.
My true country is where I can
smell the fresh air and think
of whatever comes to mind.
Jansri Hardi
9th Grade, Leggett Valley High
Dan Roberts, Poet Teacher
Poem After Hearing Susan Griffin's "The Way We Stand"
You watch uncomprehending as we stand together.
You have no idea what it was like,
our friendship and caring.
We stand strong, walking on the same ground,
our roots entwined underneath the great earth.
Together we stand, through the same storm,
the same rains and the same agonies.
While you had no one to care for you
when all was lost.
Our long branches that came together
helped each of us when we wanted to fall.
When you had no arms to fall into
when the time came for tears.
If we could we would reach out to you as well,
show you the soil we stand in,
plant you in among us.
But you resist with empty threats
too scared for compassion...
afraid of what it might cost you.
But if we work together,
put one foot after the other,
you could understand this feeling.
The joys it brings us...and the sorrows.
To be able to think and be alike,
to laugh together after the storm has passed,
think on it, my friend, your roots will be small
but time will make them larger.
Violet Bell
11th Grade, Leggett Valley High
Dan Roberts, Poet Teacher
Poems About Hands
They pick up the solid black body
and slide the studded strap over my shoulder
They plug in the cable
and twist and turn the knobs to the correct settings
They touch the pick and from memory
glide across the silver frets as fast as lightning
They produce the brutal riffs, heavy leads,
and technical breakdowns,
speaking their own magical language
They hold countless possibilities
and have an infinite memory
Liberty Williams
10th Grade, Leggett Valley High
Dan Roberts, Poet Teacher
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