My secret dream is to soar high like a soccer ball flying into a net and be sort of like the tip of a paint brush. Griffin Romandetta, 13Apex, NC
Poetry-Dreams
The Juggle Man
One day I went to the juggle place and on a shelf sat the juggle man. He said to me you took a juggle now give it back to me. The owner of the juggle place said to go home and then she called the police. The police said outside there is young poor Sally with balls in hand but cannot juggle. Then the police said on a Monday you took a suitcase on Tuesday you took a toothbrush and on Friday you poured milk. What a bad girl you have been. Analise Braddock, 7Katonah, NY Adhi Sukhdial, 7Stillwater, OK
Queen of the World
Sometimes I pretend I am the queen of the world Gliding in a silver sleigh of dreams My dress is made of ripped up clouds And my crown is woven with moonlight I float above the sun each day Watching over my empire I can feel every triumph and every Disappointment ripple through me like a Stone cast into a deep crystal pond But as time steals by it is not so wonderful To hold the weight of the world And I would much rather be a normal girl Bound to life and nothing more So I raise my lips to the velvet sky And gently kiss each star in the Milky Way farewell I suppose that even the queen of the world Grows weary of her place in the universe Ana Carpenter, 10Chicago, IL
