When I try my best but no words come I feel worried, like when I drown in lava. How does it feel like to be an author? Great, because everyone will know the work you wrote. It also feels like you are the most important person in the world. When I do not have to think more and I know what I have to write, I feel like sleeping on a giant smooth waterfall full of bubbles. It also feels like getting untangled from a spider web. Gabriel Levy, 9 Shanghai, China
Poem
About the Author Poem
Before I write, I put on boots, jackets, scarfs and mittens. “I am prepared.” I tell myself. I close my eyes and write. For I know that if I don’t prepare myself fully, I may never get out of my fantasy world. Emilei Lu, 11 Shanghai, China
tiny big valley
tiny valley big so big grass of blue lakes of green tiny big down-upside trees night and day spring to spring nothing&noone comes to tiny big valley nothing walks the roses &noone paints the sky with love night and day spring to spring nothing&noone and someone and everyone comes to tiny big valley nothing loves noone n roses more night and day spring to spring tiny valley big so big when nothing&noone stopped to breathe a place of beauty sky of love night and day spring to spring Angelina Lu, 11 Shanghai, China
lonely boy
Who am I, am I just a lonely boy? When I am lonely I feel wild. Does nobody want me? Or do I have to stay here forever? Well, I will be crashed by a car? What shall I do. I need a real life! I am very far to become a normal boy. Gilbert Huang, 9 Shanghai, China
A human
A human’s life is as an alien’s life. This human has two feet and hairs. It lives in a house and eats with its hair. But actually we guess that humans eat like that. A piece of paper told us how humans are. A human goes to work every day even Saturday and Sunday and never gets a holiday. It grabs things with its feet. Gilbert Huang, 9 Shanghai, China
Untitled
The sound you can hear is the fairy’s voice. And remember the fairies are behind you. Fairies are not same as you because they have wings and they are absolutely tiny. And Whatever money you get it is actually your tooth. If you have a very clean and white tooth put it under your pillow and next day you will see money under __________your pillow. because the tooth fairy will grab your tooth and exchange it with money. Gilbert Huang, 9 Shanghai, China
Myself
When I write I feel very soft and smooth. I always feel nervous when the pen touches the paper. My feelings always control myself. When I don’t know what to write I transform into a monster. Gilbert Huang, 9 Shanghai, China
THE MOON
The moon The little moon The lonely uncolorful moon The only friend of earth The moon of its only kind There the moon stand by her only little self The moon The Earth’s only friend The grey boring moon The old rusty moon Andy Wu, 10 Shanghai, China
Belonging
We dig holes, In the grainy sand I dig mine, like a dog, the dog I wish I’d had then, When we ran across the sand, laughter surrounds us. A small sand crab scuttles over my foot Daddy holds me Just over the waves The water tickles my feet and I squeal As he picks me up and the wave crashes down on where I was before he bear hugs me tight this is where I belong. Tristan Hui, 11 Menlo Park, CA
Moonlight Under Water
The last look Of the scraggly trees Scraping their black fingernails Across the wistful shingles Of the buildings The last breath of moonlight, Whispering on the curtains Shall forever slumber In my iris The last smell of sheer power, Radiating off the skyscrapers And the smell of the cigarette from the man with the Rusty barbed wire hair Who sleeps on the doorsteps of Broadway The last blink of the artificial light of the streetlamps flickering On and off Like a dying firefly Moonlight under water Like the old man who has many ideas But is not brave enough to present them Oh New York, you will forever be caught In the tangled thicket Of past importance Dusty Gibbon, 12 New Haven, CT
Belonging
We dig holes, In the grainy sand I dig mine, like a dog, the dog I wish I’d had then, When we ran across the sand, laughter surrounds us. A small sand crab scuttles over my foot Daddy holds me Just over the waves The water tickles my feet and I squeal As he picks me up and the wave crashes down on where I was before he bear hugs me tight this is where I belong. Tristan Hui, 11 Menlo Park, CA
Stroll at Sunset
Rolling waves of green blue spume, Soothe my aching feet, Silver specks whiz by against the stone, I look up from the shallow waters, The sky coated in a pastel orange pink, Seagulls soar my what beauty, A cooling breeze whistles by, It hums through tireless work day and night, The painter of the skies brushes his paintbrush silently, Tiny green creatures hidden in rough sand, Who are brave enough to disturb the quieting day, And now I must go before the waves whisk me off, I watch as the remains of sunset absorb into the now starry night. Nour Mokbel, 11 Springfield, VA
