Short Sixth Grade Poems

Lost love,
how critical,
sixth grade love...

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                                Your father died....we cried together







for...'First Love' contest...

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Snazzy Jazzy world of dragon of Ghoul
Gold red and Green twirling scales in whirlpool
We ran out of the way
Of his fierce fire today
He is now sixth grade student at our school...

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Heaven during the summer had white flower trees
Which makes Winter for Earth.
The flowers fall from the sky and freeze
Which makes snow on Earth. When our flower trees
grow during the night
The gods take all the flowers
To make Winter for heaven.

Sixth Grade
Nevada Young Writers and Artists 1995...

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The sixth graders were the next to shop.
They were a small but mighty group.
They left more loudly than they arrived.
It was great to see them!

So many said thank you.
It was marvelous to be given the gift of their manners.
They are gone now; the auditorium is silent.
Feeling sad, wishing her seats were filled.

Aha! We hear children in the hallway
Heading this way.
I watch the auditorium light up...

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Our loud and proud spanking new sixth grade student named Tony Maloy,
Had bragged about being from the island of exotic St. Croix.
He brazenly came late into McD’s classroom, screaming, “AHOY!”
Our teacher rolled his blue eyes, and under his breath whispered, “oh,joy.”
We became instant friends as I knew he was going to be a really fun boy.
Because quite frankly, unflappable Mr. Duckbill is rather hard to annoy....

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Miss Auchterlonie was my teacher
In the sixth grade and I was happy
I loved her figure and features
And she even dressed real snappy!

My love for her would not be denied
I'd impress her with my model cars
It would be cool if she would ride
On my bicycle handle bars!

But mine and more hearts were broken
When the bad news she gave us came
We were crushed by her words spoken,
"Mrs. Spencer is now my name!"...

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I wrote this way back in sixth grade & I have been able to recite it since, actually the
only poem of mine that I actually have memorized, such a shame! anyways read on:

There once was a girl from mars
Who ate and ate candy bars
But then she got sick
And decided to lick
The mud of a small purple car

~we even had to illustrate it & everything, but so sorry I can't attach that one with it :) 

*Thanks much for reading...

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Wet warm juicy fresh
                                                            First kiss anticipation
                                                              Whet my appetite

                                                           Sixth grade pucker up
                                                  All seeds pits pulp skin and core
                                                            Tasted like tennis balls...

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Grandma Francie had been a preschool teacher too long
She packed me a lunch one time when I was in sixth grade.
What are those? My tablemates asked as I rolled them out.
They were tiny bugs made out of apples, celery, dates and raisins.
I was humiliated and horrified. It was a lunch a three-year-old would love.
“Can I have one?”
I ended up giving them all away.
They wanted to know if grandma would sell them some.
Catastrophe avoided....

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In the back of my closet,
high upon the shelf,
there sits an old love letter
that I keep to myself.

Its pages are crumpled,
the edges a tad bit torn.
I can recite his words by memory,
although the writings worn.

He tells of his undying love,
and how we were meant to be.
Our vows whispered at the church,
they were our fantasy.

Like all things, neither tried nor true,
we had to be apart.
A victim of the ages,
he broke my sixth grade heart....

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Sixth grade comes in singing and dancing, rapping, stomping, stamping.
Sounds like a herd of wild stallions, two hundred strong.
There are twenty-two of them.
Seventeen boys, four girls.
I have to ask them to be respectful while I give directions.
One, two, three, four, five, seven, eleven, fifteen times.
They act horrible.
I know now why the regular art teacher has called in sick four Wednesdays.
She is here in the morning, before the sixth graders’ class....

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A student walks out of class in sixth grade.
There are no consequences, lots of understanding.
Empathy galore.
There is no apology to teacher or the class.

Second student walks out.
Same scenario.
Third and fourth students walk out together.
No consequences.
They get to eat lunch with the superintendent.
Everyone tries to understand them.

This was week two of school.
By the end of the first semester half the class is walking out daily.
We have no idea why....

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My nefarious opinionated head made me extra extra mad
Yelling at my sixth-grade teacher. I said, “I am going to tell Dad!”
My corpulent head laughed at that, for she is mean you see.
I wish she would disappear or go far away from me.

You are evil I told her. Slicing her off at my neck.
She made fun of me of course. I thought what the heck?
But then I got mad, because she gave my ankle a little nasty lick.
That’s gross I tried to scream but couldn’t, so I gave her a giant kick....

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In the back of her closet,
high upon the shelf,
there sits an old love letter,
that she keeps to herself.
Its pages are slightly crumpled,
the edges a tad bit torn.
She can recite his words by memory,
although the writing's worn.
He tells of his undying love,
and how they were meant to be.
Vows whispered at the church,
they were her fantasy.
But like all things neither tried nor true,
They had to be apart.
A victim of the ages,
he broke her sixth grade heart....

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