Long 7th grade Poems
Long 7th grade Poems. Below are the most popular long 7th grade by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long 7th grade poems by poem length and keyword.
They bring me gifts. Leaves, acorns, a flyswatter, mud off their shoes.
With big smiles and a happy attitude, they bring me gifts daily.
Yes, I am talking about the kindergarten students, the happy five’s.
And occasional sixes, who lose their front teeth rather gaily.
They bring me family conversations, and use inflection in their voices.
Now running toward the play dough center in the room’s corner.
They bring me funny stories. I applaud their non-selective choices.
Learning more than a therapist, bartender or beauty shop owner.
I smile all day at their drama, and their clever understated antics.
They have no idea they are hilarious. not realizing their own worth.
Poetry begs to write about them, so of course I comply with happiness.
They are real, honest, hilarious, and full of their own little middle earth.
Poetry Contest: Compounding the Verse
Sponsor: Joseph May
A pink whistle, a shrill siren, a spilled bottle of ink,
Vibrant India, the blue stuff, silver spilled in the sink,
I never know what kinds of amazing things will come through.
What will my assertive muse in charge of me make me do?
Will it be faeries today? Or cinnamon rolls? A garden missive?
A bumble bee rose clocker-shocker, will it be something priss-ive?
I have to sit at my keyboard, and punch some keys, trying not to shout.
My take-charge muse is the only one of us who knows what is going to come out.
Are we silly? Mad? Mean? What is the Caren-Trixie mood of the day?
Do we need glitter and glue? Are we going to dance? Are we going to play?
Will it be poetry, or a drawing, will I paint a mural or perhaps a cartoon?
Will we be traveling to Egypt or Zimbabwe or to the Baboon’s famed moon?
I am lying here, wondering, in my teeny tiny not-so-smart-yet head.
I guess the first step might be to roll out of bed.
I want to be a pirate’s unicorn in my next life.
A beautiful pirate named Sadie, who gives me no strife.
We’ll sail the seven seas my little Sadie and me.
We’ll steal riches and treasures, happy we’ll be.
Other pirates will be terrified when they see our flag.
It’s that vicious pirate girl and her meanie one horned nag!
We’ll catch them up in nets and we will make them walk a plank.
We’ll chop some up as meat until we smell their ugly stank.
We will be on the most wanted list, Queen Sadie and me.
She’ll dress in red rhinestone dresses, as pretty as can be.
Her talents will be legend in every foreign nation.
We will rob six months a year, the rest of them, vacation.
We will wake up on the beach, every day, and take a run.
We will eat hot oatmeal pies, and try to get some sun.
She will ride on my back in a queenly pirate way.
Pirate and the Unicorn, a best-selling Broadway play.
She flew in rather persnickety and grumpily
A buzzing, breezy, rounded, striped, funny sight
Silly me, but wasn’t that a pink bumblebee?
I asked, weird, since it was the middle of the night.
I knew for sure this stranger had not received an invite
The tiny creature seemed to have a magical autonomy
Her arrival did not trouble me, but I did turn on the light.
She flew in rather persnickety and grumpily
My legs were not active yet, kind of rubbery
It was a curious and confining horrible plight.
I squinted my eyes and scanned the room fuzzily
A buzzing, breezy, rounded, striped, funny sight
At least the winged beast would give me fodder to write
Not finding the creature did not truly trouble me
Where had she gone in her impromptu flight?
Silly me, but wasn’t that a pink bumblebee?
How knowledgeable can someone be?
I spied a brief flash of white
Am I being a dumb bunny?
I asked, weird, since it was the middle of the night.
I had not seen anything this pretty since last night’s twilight.
Where could this little winged monkey be?
For this week, she was indeed my absolute highlight
I gathered ingredients for scones and tea
She flew in rather persnickety
Written 6-7-2022
Contest: Rondeau Redouble Poem Poetry Contest
Sponsor: L Milton Hankins
I love you as freely as the wind blows.
I love you as much as God's heavenly
Rainbows. I love you as much as the
Earth's greenest grass grows.
I love you with an everlasting love.
I freely love you as I do the Holy
Sprite's white doves of peace
And tranquility,
I love you and wish for the
Sea of Tranquility. I love so
Much as you walk besides
Me on the white sandy shores.
I love how you take me by
My hand. And lead and guide
Me into your heavenly promise
Land!
I will love you throughout the
Vast eons of time. I daily
Praise the Lord you are everlasting
Really mine. I will praise and
I will honor you with my psalms
Of love and devotion.
I love you and someday I shall behold
Your face and I will forget my disgrace.
My sins have vanished with the wind.
Never to be remember no more!
I will spend all of eternity in
Your awesome holy presence!
Love in Christ Jesus!
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954
Roxy 1954/ October Country
May 30, 2020
In the land of golden sunshine, where the waves do crash,
There lies a tranquil beauty, a Californian marsh.
Where waters shimmer softly, reflecting skies so blue,
A haven for the creatures, and a sanctuary too.
The marshland breathes with life, a chorus of birdsong,
As egrets gracefully wade, camly gliding along.
Their wingspan wide and elegant, in search of their delight,
In this marshland sanctuary, where nature takes its flight.
The reeds sway gently in the breeze, whispering their tale,
Of ancient times and stories, in this mystical wetland trail.
The scent of salty ocean, mingling with the earth,
Creates a fragrant symphony, celebrating marshland's birth.
Amongst the vibrant colors, where wildflowers bloom,
Butterflies dance in harmony, dispelling any gloom.
Dragonflies in vibrant hues, zip and dart with grace,
As they skim the marshland's surface, a ballet in space.
Beneath the calm and peaceful waters, secrets are concealed,
As fish and turtles glide, their presence unrevealed.
The marshland is a treasure, a fragile ecosystem,
Where harmony and balance thrive, nature's precious prism.
So let’s cherish this marshland, this Californian gem,
Protect its fragile beauty, let its spirit never dim.
For in its tranquil embrace, we find solace and peace,
A refuge for all creatures, where nature's wonders never cease.
Their eyes are sparkling eager bright.
Their brains sharp and poignant.
They know more than I have forgotten.
Their imaginations are surpassed only by their idealism.
They are ready to fix the world. Inspire world peace.
Take garbage out of the oceans. They are formidable.
An army of purity, and spiritual grace and goodness.
They are the children.
If we were wise we would listen.
They are the closest to God.
Still hearing what we need to do to save humanity and our planet.
Sh!
Listen….
Written 11-3-2019
Contest: I sense tomorrow is the future poetry contest
Sponsor: Sheri Fresonke Harper
Mice were creeping along with their loot tonight.
One had a satchel of cheese; another’s burden was light.
Is that the grain then? Or the popcorn or what?
A third mouse crept by, carrying a bag on his gut.
Big cat stayed where he was, staring at the three.
He would jump down and grab up one by grubby paw or knee.
The others would scatter, trying to run off and flee.
But Big Cat had been hired by a mean guy named McGee.
McGee would hold onto his fish if he did a bad job.
So Big Cat jumped down into the middle of the rodent mob.
The mice were ready, their friends came out with hammers to attack.
Big Cat decided to quit the job, and he has never been back.
words
Who is the leader?
The one who stands up and says enough!
The one who marches for what is important.
The one who shelters in place and wears a mask.
The one who resists temptation to think everything is normal.
Who is the leader?
The one who says no, we will not go back to school yet.
The one who stands up and says let the Mexican children out of those cages.
The one who stands up and says why do we have secret police?
The one who says enough of this foolishness.
We must become the new leaders
Because we do not have one any more.
We have to step up and be one.
If we all step up, maybe we can save lives in America.
But we had better hurry; we are falling down hard
And we are not getting back up.
Only the two big houses were in the broad Street, My mansion was at the dead end street meet , It was covered with green creepers like sheet, My open heart seemed eeto miss an easy beat,
In the street meet, there was a child's tomb,
No one went near it in the dark night, Every one passed the end of the street with zoom, They crossed it very speed with flash light,
The abode was large and had three courtyards Wooden pillars were looked like huge guards, It's high and dark shadows made me scared, Avoiding fear, I prayed to the family God,
Nearly forty persons were died in the home,
For me, it resembled a fearful tomb, Like the memorable mummies found in Rome, I felt like an icy cube in the white foam,
I ran on the varanda as fast as I could, Grandma had come with a lantern and I misunderstood, I dashed her speedy, but she withstood,
I told my bitter experience to the neighborhood.