Jobs Personification Poems

A secret is granted
any curb captain
listening.

To speak rarely and
with roots.

Blake wears a hardhat,
drives a forklift for
Metal Products.

Whitman collects
unemployment in the mail.

New words
are mined coal.

They are...

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I know you're just a tiny dot,
			but in the world of writing, not		
			a mark more powerful exists.
			When thoughts get jammed up, you insist
			they separate and...

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The Three Islands Sleep!

Sleep, sleep, the islands asleep!
Sleep while the winds blow on her face,
On her trees, and on her mountains and hills,
Sleep when the...

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I quiver with excitement.
Here comes Big Hand.
Will she pick me up?
Big Hand picks up a pink paper clip.
Pink paper clip sticks her tongue out at...

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Welcome to our barnyard, you can call me Fred.
My job is to get everyone out of bed.
Cheerful by nature, I’m proud to “cock-a-doodle-do.”
A beautiful crow...

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