Crayons

default © Margaret Alliet

Published: February 2006

Eighteen years, a thousand fears,

Yet countless joyful times.
A tiny baby smiles just once,
Her Daddy's heart it binds.

A toddler cries with tearful eyes,

That only Mom can dry.
The little girl so cute in pink
Decides what clothes she'll try.

Her favorite pastime soon becomes

All paper, paint, and crayons.
Some years go by, she's growing fast,
No longer holds our hands.

She struggles some along the way,

We hope she feels our love.
The strength she needs takes all she has,
She's all we're thinking of.

The sun breaks through, she finds her way,

The clouds begin to clear.
And every day that passes now,
Each one we hold so dear.

She'll leave us soon to spread her wings,

A dream or two to find.
We know her life's forever bound
To these roots she leaves behind.

We hope she knows how proud we are,

How deep our love resides.
How much we've learned along the way,
Seeing through our child's eyes.

The paper, paint, and crayons

Through graduation years,
Will always be our most precious ones,
Despite the thousand fears.
Source: https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/paper-paint-and-crayons

The Wind

I am the Wind

I creep and crawl through every swamp and valley

Touching every leaf and holding every branch

Surrounding every rock and cooling every stream

Playing with the leaves that dance on my shoulders

I am the Wind.

I cradle nature's breath in my arms

Rocking it back and forth

Singing to it my sweet lullaby

Kissing its tender face with my gentle breeze

I am the Wind.

I instruct the tall grass to bow before me

Ruling over the leaves and governing the water

Telling the rain when to fall

Commanding even the waves of the ocean to obey me

I am the Wind.

Nature has given me more than one task

I work to complete them all

I fly with the birds and run with the cheetahs

I guard the baby as she sleeps and watch over the dogs that howl at the moon

I play with the hair of a sleeping child

I race the cars on the highway

I dance around the corn fields at dusk

I watch the world begin to slumber and am there at its waking

I am the Wind.

Tornados are mere toothpicks for my teeth

Hurricanes are but drizzling rain

Blizzards lose their footing without me as their foundation

Rooted as the source of storm and tempest, I will not budge

I am the Wind.

I hold the stars and stripes of many flags

Helping the countries show them with pride

I collide with the sails of boats

Catching my feet they make me pull them along

I am the Wind

I pull the leaves off of the trees like apples

Laying them carefully on the ground to sleep

Letting them rest under a blanket of snow till they wake

I am the Wind.

I carry the seed of dandelions on my back

Washing it with my breeze

And planting it in the soft earth beneath my feet

I cool it while I blow through pursed lips

And bring clouds to quench its thirst

Soon my work is done

I am the Wind.

Curling my fists at the mountains that stand in my way

Disobeying the gravity of man

Defying even life itself as I live on forever

The Bells

by Edgar Allan Poe

(published 1849)

I.

HEAR the sledges with the bells --

Silver bells !
What a world of merriment their melody foretells !
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,
In the icy air of night !
While the stars that oversprinkle
All the heavens, seem to twinkle
With a crystalline delight ;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells
From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells --
From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.

II.

Hear the mellow wedding bells

Golden bells!
What a world of happiness their harmony foretells !
Through the balmy air of night
How they ring out their delight !
From the molten-golden notes,
And all in tune,
What a liquid ditty floats
To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats
On the moon !
Oh, from out the sounding cells,
What a gush of euphony voluminously wells !
How it swells !
How it dwells
On the Future ! how it tells
Of the rapture that impels
To the swinging and the ringing
Of the bells, bells, bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells --
To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells !
 III.

Hear the loud alarum bells --

Brazen bells !
What tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells !
In the startled ear of night
How they scream out their affright !
Too much horrified to speak,
They can only shriek, shriek,
Out of tune,
In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,
In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire,
Leaping higher, higher, higher,
With a desperate desire,
And a resolute endeavor
Now -- now to sit or never,
By the side of the pale-faced moon.
Oh, the bells, bells, bells !
What a tale their terror tells
Of Despair !
How they clang, and clash, and roar !
What a horror they outpour
On the bosom of the palpitating air !
Yet the ear, it fully knows,
By the twanging,
And the clanging,
How the danger ebbs and flows ;
Yet, the ear distinctly tells,
In the jangling,
And the wrangling,
How the danger sinks and swells,
By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells --
Of the bells --
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells --
In the clamour and the clangour of the bells !

IV.

Hear the tolling of the bells --

Iron bells !
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels !
In the silence of the night,
 How we shiver with affright
At the melancholy meaning of their tone !
For every sound that floats
From the rust within their throats
Is a groan.
And the people -- ah, the people --
They that dwell up in the steeple,
All alone,
And who, tolling, tolling, tolling,
In that muffled monotone,
Feel a glory in so rolling
On the human heart a stone --
They are neither man nor woman --
They are neither brute nor human --
They are Ghouls: --
And their king it is who tolls ;
And he rolls, rolls, rolls, rolls,
Rolls
A pæan from the bells !
And his merry bosom swells
With the pæan of the bells !
And he dances, and he yells ;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the pæan of the bells --
Of the bells :
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the throbbing of the bells --
Of the bells, bells, bells --
To the sobbing of the bells ;
Keeping time, time, time,
As he knells, knells, knells,
In a happy Runic rhyme,
To the rolling of the bells --
Of the bells, bells, bells --
To the tolling of the bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells --
Bells, bells, bells --
To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.
"I Dreamed A Dream"
By: Lance Morrow

Tik tok! Tik tok! Tik tok!

When I was a child,
I dreamt I could fly,
When I woke, I tried for a while
As hard a I might, it was a lie!

When I was a child,

I dreamt I could breathe
Under water for a while.
Awake I tried but air I need!

As I grew up, those silly dreams I forgot,

Until one day I jumped out of a plane,
With a parachute, the wind I caught.
Flying like Superman, it was insane!

As I grew up, those silly dreams I thought I forgot,

Until I dove deep down under water,
With scuba gear that I bought.
Swimming like a mermaid was not bother!

Looking back now, I see

Those silly little dreams
Were always a part of me.
Dreams come true, it seems!

Shh…shh…shh… We are reading!

By: Harold M. Naputo

Shh… shh… shh… our teacher is reading.

Shh… shh… shh… we want you to listen.

Once upon a time… Once upon a time… Once upon a time… (prolong)

Reading Stories.

Stories are fun. They fill our imagination. We become navigators (solo, boat & airplane scene
acting), we become astronauts (solo & space scene acting), we become engineers (solo & building
scene acting), we become doctors (solo & doctor scene acting), but most of all we become persons
with great interests in making our world beautiful.

And so in the classroom, when our teacher begins to open the book, and scans on the pages to a
story…

Shh… shh… shh… our teacher is reading.

Shh… shh… shh… we want you to listen.

Our dear schoolmates, reading is very important in our lives. It is everywhere. It is everything. On
the street, a sign reads: pedestrian lane. This is the yellow painted lane on the street allowed for all
to cross the street. Inside our classroom, the rules read: Be a good listener (solo); Finish class
activities promptly (duet); Use polite words when talking(trio); Honesty is the best policy (quartet)
… and many more(all). And even on the television: Ang susunod na palabas ay rated SPG.
Striktong Patnubay at Gabay ay kailangan sa mga bata.

And so in the classroom, when our teacher begins to open the book, and scans on the pages to a
story…

Shh… shh… shh… our teacher is reading.

Shh… shh… shh… we want you to listen.

In our age today, when gadgets reign supreme in our lives… I Pod Music, MP3, MP4,
Smartphones, personal computer, laptops, tablets, and medicine(solo)! Shh… shh… shh…
electronic gadgets, not medicines! But yet again, to be able to read the directions, we must learn
to love reading. To be able to follow the directions of the game we play, we must start reading.
Reading… reading… reading… let us all read!

And so in the classroom, when all of us begin to open our books, and scan on the pages to a
story…

Shh… shh… shh… we are reading.

Shh… shh… shh… we want you keep quiet