One night when Gramma was here, Ruth and Kate stayed up late and we all wrote poems. The next night Gramma showed us how to make little books and we painted them and put our poems in the books. We had a really fun time doing this with Gramma and I am pleased to say that we are at least quite creative. Here are our poems.
Haiku's by Diane
Ruth
Ruth is a fairy
Dancing with pretty flowers
My magical girl
Kate
Kate is really great
her eyes are big green emeralds
Sunshines when she smiles
Johnny
Good and smart and clean
playing games and learning things
happy little boy
Adam
Run, Jump, Shout for Joy
Wrestling brother and sisters
Fun Happy Adam
Rachel
Sometimes an angel
Singing a beautiful song
peaceful and happy
Two Poems By Kate
The wild deer prancing through the wood.
The silent breeze goes by.
The fairy tales of springtime bells.
Th white maiden in the gown.
The handsome man in bow and tie.
The wedding bells go by.
And in the flower girls basket,
Is the spring we love.
I am Grandpa.
I don't like poems.
So I did not write a poem.
ps. Kate says I am a poor sport.
Two Poems by Gramma
Buttons
Round-- square.
Metal-- glass.
Plastic-- clay now baked.
Yellow, brown, a dot of orange
A kiss of blue.
Holes in the middle
Thread drawn through.
Buttons, Buttons, Buttons,
Old ones from Gramma's tin--
Diamond ones-- pink and brown.
Green-blue, pearl, clear.
Patterns-- white shirt buttons.
Buttons, buttons, buttons, buttons.
Buttons, buttons, buttons, buttons.
And More...
Sa Lither
Sott, Sweet, Smiles,
Smart silvery smiles,
Small sunshine smiles,
Silent still smiles,
Snow surf smiles,
So smile smile, so smile,
Sweet Sott Sunshine
Some simple
Some seem
silly
some somber
A Lot of Poems By Ruth
I hear a big noise.
That sounds like a voice.
Saying the Volcanoes Arose
Winter is here
It makes me cheer
To know that Christmas is near.
Kate is eight.
She looks great.
But sometimes she can be late.
About a Star
That is glass
It looks like brass,
All shining, gleaming there.
The wind is blowing strong
I have had this feeling all along
It is a nice day.
And Finally Poems by John Wesley Robertson
Pretentious
Poems are pretentious
Trying to sound important.
Their boasts are empty.
My poems are the best.
Unlike the rest.
Displaying the talent with which I am blessed.
But if that's so...
I just do not know,
Why others who hear them,
So quickly do go.
2 comments:
sorry John, I think I like Grandpa's poem the best...but they are all good and fun to read
What a great evening. Jim's Mom always sat down with he when he had to write sentences with his vocabulary list, and they would make it into verse. That's how come he writes them so easily. Whjat a great evening activity...way to go Gramma Pardon!
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