StoneSoupMagazine · Poetry by Julia Marcus, 13 Let’s see. Is there any place for an R? Can it be inserted into FLAP or GUM or BENCH? But no—I watch as CHART is made, and I half-heartedly sigh. I watch HIS turn to FISH and then to SHIFT. That could be a sentence. But they’re just random words, somehow conjugated from tiny letter tiles spread out on the table. It’s amazing how many words can be made—WATERY, CUBICLE, QUIZ, WISPY. Right here, when it’s just a game, none of it seems to mean anything. Julia Marcus, 13Culver City, CA
Poetry-Reflections
Everything I Love
The ride up the mountain The thousands of trees The pine and bark Smell Makes me feel Like I am Relaxed and calm The rain pattering Against the window The shower steam against my Warm hot skin Its smells like A clean start Leaves falling With the snow Is a wonderful sight Sliding down the soft And slick slopes Going up the bright Red gondola Liv Baker, 11Seattle, WA
Bored
I am bored, I am bored. Like a boat That is moored In a dreary bay On the sea, Rocking gently. Under the stars, who twinkle merrily. And the gulls, who squawk terribly. Isabel Goodey, 11 Livingston, NJ
