Poetry-Nature

Threads of twine twisted together Working to keep me up As I swing into the air My hair trailing behind me. Crashing my legs into the bushes I get scratched all over But I don’t care Holding onto the rope with all my might. Wind slashes against my cheeks Bark and twigs fall in my eyes The branch sways back and forth, threatening to break As I spin around in a wild circle. Leaning back and looking up The tree’s limbs wrap around the sky Shining through the foliage The sun smiles and so do I. Alexandra Orczyk, 11Escondido, California

The world is full of fog that people put out to hide the wrongs that they have done (or are about to do) The world is full of deceitfulness and lies that is the fog of the world But there is another kind and that is of the countryside of my home where fog is real and drifts drowsily around old Douglas firs and house windows Through that slow sleepy fog I read in newspapers and hear on the radio about the war in this and that far-off country Though here at home I am safe and warm there is no war here except the occasional war between that stray cat and my dog aside from that there is only peace Later when the sun breaks through lighting tree tips and making colors bright and flowing down I run along the warming ground with my large black dog for both of us are youths and like to run he with ears flopping and tail bouncing and I with my hair bent by the wind Then I sit on a hill and watch the ducks swimming in the lake the herons fishing for newts and the hawks hunting for mice I can see a deer with her fawns the robins in their nest the bees going to work at the flowers I am glad that they are all still here. I think to myself this is Paradise. Abraham Lawrence, 12Eugene, Oregon