• Write On May Mart Winners 2014

    I dug and I whispered

    about water

    something is pink

    a song of storm

    Today is my mom’s birthday

    I jumped under rain

    She ate candy corn with a ghost

    Imagine if you were hot

    Is dad fat, NO

                            Tara Bass, Kindergarten


     When I Ride in the Wind

    When I ride in the wind

    I feel the spring air

    I pedal faster and faster

    As I feel the rushing wind pass me

    I feel like I’m part of it

    And I don’t ever want to stop riding

    My hair flies in the air

    I ride and ride and ride

    And the wind seems to say, “hello, are you part of me?”

                            Lucie Goldberg, 1st grade

    My Dog’s Tail

    fluffy soft golden

    a snake with no fangs

    a tree swaying in the wind

    a whip that makes you fall

    a drum when it hits anything in its way

    an alarm she has to go to the bathroom

    a weapon for the territory

    a sign of happiness

    a broom sweeping the floor

                              Tucker Hawk, 2nd grade


    Fun at May Mart

    Fun things happen every time you blink.

    Under the tent, your happiness never sinks.

    Never bored,


    At May Mart.

    The bow ’n’ arrow hits its dart.


    More fun at the games,

    At the karaoke, that’s my thang.

    You, me, on a ride.


    More sugar, Every time!

    Almost time to go,

    Really fun, let’s not go, no!!!

    The end

                            Blanche Brody, 3rd grade



    Under the sun

    Shining here,

    Under the layers

    Of the atmosphere.

    Below the airplanes

    Flying past,

    Below the clouds

    Coming by fast.

    Under the storm

    Above us rumbling,

    Under the hill

    While a rock is tumbling,

    Stands you.

    But don’t put your feet

    At lock,

    ’Cause you better watch out

    For that tumbling rock

                            Vivien Smith, 4th grade          


    Full of Light

    Brightness of the morn

    Creeps into the empty room

    Gracing the oak wood desk

    In a cobweb filled corner

    That has never been used

    Tiles unpolished

    Rug littered with dust


    No one to sweep them away

    He does

    Or brighten the black and white

    With color

    He does

    By undetectable breeze

    It’s Him

    Light skitters down the staircase

    So easy to track

    His footsteps burn light

    Filling every nook and cranny

    With warmth

    He tramples into closets

    And perfumes musty smells

    With His delightful fresh scent

    No second thoughts

    Throws open every closed door

    Reapplies spirit

    To the house

    As a lady does

    With makeup

    He provides Light

    Where there is none

    A speck of Hope

    In a tunnel of Darkness

                            Jolynn Blankson, 5th grade