Best Fourth Grade Poems
You will love fourth grade I was told by everyone
It is learning multiplication, algebra, truly much fun.
Do not get on the bad side though of Miss McLater.
She has the disposition of a fierce alligator.
She was the mysterious teacher we had never seen.
The other teachers had their photos up, but hers was green.
Just a field of grass, no person at all.
Labelled Miss McLater’s Grass, five feet tall.
I was shocked and horrified when she entered the room.
I felt threatened as her huge eyes promptly turned and zoomed.
She had an alligator’s head, or maybe it was face of a gator.
I knew I was never going to feel at ease with Miss McLater.
When I'm feeling a bit put down
And the best I can muster, is a pitiful frown
I hold in my hand a gift given me
By a special person,
I'm sure you'll agree
It's not much to most people
No, no value as such
But to me, just me,
It has always meant so much.
It was a simple thing it seemed
But thoughtful beyond measure
A Buck Eyed Chestnut from her tree
And to me a life's treasure.
I still have it ,
It's on my desk, Thank You B Shaw
The fourth grade band was playing
But my eyes were there alone
Not for flutes or clarinets or drums,
Just Henry on trombone.
All the music was familiar
From the practicing he’d done,
So I knew just what was coming
Once the concert had begun.
He looked confident and happy
Sitting up there on the stage
As I realized, in his childhood,
He has turned another page.
What a thrill to watch him growing
And I know if I’m around,
That wherever music takes him,
That’s the place where I’ll be found.
Minnesota cold a curse and a blessing
invigorating breath-taking
bundled up yet wonder taken in
a call to ice skate until we couldn’t any more
stick-figures arms raised celebration
my girlfriend in fourth grade
or friend
infatuation
a white blanket
glistened under the distant sun
as it stretched across yards
toward untold destinations
the wind against houses a haunting song
sounded like my father’s
off-key singing
my eyes watered
he sang again
a whisper as I walked to the neighbors
an igloo in their front yard
made by a parent’s hands
all the pieces fit
stillness when I went inside
a soft glow through the walls
a warmth felt when left with my thoughts
youthful moments embraced before the season passed
(4th Grade, the Color Poem)
Mrs Cook told me to pick an easier color
Mrs Cook told me not to write about white
I’ve chosen you with faith
Chosen you in spite
You are the presence
Of all colors combined
You are above the water, above the rain
The Swans on a lake
And the Clouds in the sky
You’re the beginning, the end, and the reason why
The dress that hugs and drapes over a beautiful bride,
on the day of covenant
The walls that hear it all
Secrets, and prayers, whispers and calls
Like contracts, and testaments, and tear stained love letters
Letters enveloped by lovers and strangers
Taxes, bills
And an old friends reminder, there’s no business without pleasure
Paper thin hopes and a tree’s sacrifice
Like ice cream, and whipped cream, and strawberry delight
Like your Sunday best cleansing a Saturday night
Jasmines, and Lillies, Coconut Cream Limeade
As Red walks with freight, and Blue walks with Pride
They think you timid, and cast you aside
But what they mean is
Grace uncompromising, love pure and untainted
Fresh starts and childlike hearts
Blank pages, Romance, and truth Covenants
Mrs Cook told me not to write about White
And I told her Vanilla doesn’t lack flavor
You are not a color
But I know you most of all
You take background, or center, but you’re always there
You are a shade of mystery, wonder, and care