Swaying wooden swings Whisper to each other The wind blows dry leaves, Scattering messages across the park. The white, lacy blur Of a girl Polished black boots drum along stone paths As the boy calls out her name. “Come back, Margaret! I didn’t mean it! Come back!” Sariel Hana Friedman, 9Pacific Palisades, Californii
Poetry-Friends-and-Family
Sailing
The wind caresses my hair As I grasp the tiller, The direction of the sail in my hands. I watch the dazzling turquoise water Splash up against the boat, And glance up at my grandma’s magnificent face. “Am I doing OK?” She answers with a smile and a wink. I feel so good, With the seagulls flying all around me, And the warm summer sunshine Beating on my bare back. I feel so good, With wonder flying all around me And the warm love of my grandma Beating in my soul. Claudia Celovsky,13Bloomfield Hills, Michigan
Tickle Me Pink
Buzz! The familiar sounds of bees pierce my ears As I lay on the dewy morning grass. Sprawled next to me is Tessa, My younger sister, Doodling with her favorite crayon. “Tickle Me Pink, Isn’t that a funny name?” I ask. Squish! I roll over to hear her reply, and Stubbles of the freshly mowed grass stick to my back. Giving me her naive face she answers, “What color is your heart?” Not wanting to confuse the toddler, I flop against the pole of the basketball hoop with a Thud! “What color is spring?” Tessa persists. I was too old for her childish games, “I don’t know, now hurry up it’s at least 1000 degrees out!” The grass squelches as she stumbles towards me, Waving her drawing like a trophy She sticks it in my face, and I see her masterpiece: A picture of her and me, Lying together in the grass On a warm spring day “Your heart is pink,” She points to my chest in the drawing, “And so is spring.” She points to the grass, sky, and flowers. And at that moment, my Tickle-Me-Pink heart Is a blossoming bud. Marissa Bergman, 12Farmington, Connecticut
