Kresson Poetry
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Poetry is music, art, and emotion shared through words. Poems can take many forms; they can be short, long, funny, sad, thoughtful.
The amazing poets of Kresson School shared old favorites and new creations during our April poetry slams. Those found in the pages of this book are all original.
Thanks to everyone who contributed!
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This MomentKresson School
Blue~white
Calm, bright
Sky~clouds
Quiet, still
Missing the halls filled...
With voices, laughter...
Faces, light
Water~waves
Blue~white
Kresson School
by Mrs. Palmer
Month One Covid19
By Mrs. Andrew
Friday the 13th...unlucky?
Heavy sigh.
The last bus rolled away from school that day
With an unsure “stay safe” goodbye.
Walkers braved the path excitedly
Leaning forward like 100 year old men.
Eager to reach their destination
So they could drop their burden on their bed.
An announcement shook the building
YOU MUST BE OUT BY HALF PAST 3
And teachers looked through one another
For the answer that wouldn’t be…
By Mrs. Andrew
Friday the 13th...unlucky?
Heavy sigh.
The last bus rolled away from school that day
With an unsure “stay safe” goodbye.
Walkers braved the path excitedly
Leaning forward like 100 year old men.
Eager to reach their destination
So they could drop their burden on their bed.
An announcement shook the building
YOU MUST BE OUT BY HALF PAST 3
And teachers looked through one another
For the answer that wouldn’t be…
Remote Learning became all the buzz
Let’s ZOOM..no don’t!
Let’s MEET.
B r e a t h e...
Again
Just breathe...
We plod on, we don’t retreat!
They’re OUR children.
They’re YOUR children.
Our purpose everyday.
We measure their growth in lost teeth, the removal of training wheels,
New friendships, independent learning, and the character they display.
Oh yea, and state tests.
THEY miss us
Heavy s i g h...
And we miss them.
And the heartbeat of the school has s t o p p e d.
Let’s ZOOM..no don’t!
Let’s MEET.
B r e a t h e...
Again
Just breathe...
We plod on, we don’t retreat!
They’re OUR children.
They’re YOUR children.
Our purpose everyday.
We measure their growth in lost teeth, the removal of training wheels,
New friendships, independent learning, and the character they display.
Oh yea, and state tests.
THEY miss us
Heavy s i g h...
And we miss them.
And the heartbeat of the school has s t o p p e d.
Ode To Avocado
Wait...people smear you on toast
I enjoy you with salt the most
You stand alone
Seriously, you deserve a throne
Sometimes it’s good to try the unknown
My mind has simply been blown
So now you know
You’re my one and only Delicious avocado
By: Mrs. Findley
Wait...people smear you on toast
I enjoy you with salt the most
You stand alone
Seriously, you deserve a throne
Sometimes it’s good to try the unknown
My mind has simply been blown
So now you know
You’re my one and only Delicious avocado
By: Mrs. Findley
I Have a Friend
I have a friend who’s always near,
Who’s always front and center of any place
Demanding attention , “Hey, scratch my ears!”
Who can resist that (not so) innocent face
Getting food is her purpose in life
Each walk is her buffet
Rolling in fishy otter poop causes strife
cat poop is a delectable pate
She’s pulled to water like a magnet so strong
A muddy marsh, a river, frigid Bay no mind
True to her breed being wet is never wrong
But try to get her into the bath she’s tough to find
She’s my shadow brown and dark;
Revved up for whatever, always ready to go
A walk through the woods, the beach, the park
Don’t eat that dead deer leg! Mokka, NO!
by Mr. Klock
I have a friend who’s always near,
Who’s always front and center of any place
Demanding attention , “Hey, scratch my ears!”
Who can resist that (not so) innocent face
Getting food is her purpose in life
Each walk is her buffet
Rolling in fishy otter poop causes strife
cat poop is a delectable pate
She’s pulled to water like a magnet so strong
A muddy marsh, a river, frigid Bay no mind
True to her breed being wet is never wrong
But try to get her into the bath she’s tough to find
She’s my shadow brown and dark;
Revved up for whatever, always ready to go
A walk through the woods, the beach, the park
Don’t eat that dead deer leg! Mokka, NO!
by Mr. Klock
Ballet
Ballet, the dance so graceful.
A dancer lands on her feet as light as a feather,
Loving that beautiful dance style.
Living with a passion that grows more and more everyday.
Eagerly awaiting my next recital,
To show the movements that flow majestically.
by Krishi
Ballet, the dance so graceful.
A dancer lands on her feet as light as a feather,
Loving that beautiful dance style.
Living with a passion that grows more and more everyday.
Eagerly awaiting my next recital,
To show the movements that flow majestically.
by Krishi
