WORDS*WORDS*WORDS and WONDER fill 4th-grade writing journals

WORDS*WORDS*WORDS and WONDER fill 4th-grade writing journals

As the fourth grade finishes their poetry unit they are deciding what to edit out, how to line their poems, and how and whether to punctuate or capitalize. They have spent hours pondering the things they want to remember, people and places they hold dear, objects, their inner life, questions they have about the world and images they’ve seen. Students have been learning about different poets, listening to and watching spoken word performances and attending to each other as they shared their poems. They have taken all their knowledge about figurative language and descriptive writing and have created poems that are funny, introspective and moving. The students are currently working on creating chapbooks of their poetry.

Thousands

The seat is warm

the book is open

with a thousand words in it.

I start to read

and the pages

fly away like white doves.

~ Hailey

 By Imri

~Violet

Little Gasparilla Island

The abandoned beach, the lost, colorful shells,
Tramping through the dirty sand,
Dried coconuts lying around.
We get home, so happy,
Warm lights, warm food, warm cookies,
Warm laughter, warm blankets.
Way, too, hot, nights.
Happy kids’ bunk, far from the parents.
So we can read at night without “Lights out!” coming through the door.  
Me, me and my cousins.

The gentle blue waves.

The full giant conk I pulled up from the sea,

And in the rush of happiness, lost.

The wet towels we bundle in, laughing.

Walk home.

~ Hattie

~ Leila

New York Ways

When the clock ticks it makes a big click.

When the sirens shout we all scream about.

When I look at the green statue, it looks so big even from far away. It would be so relaxing if I could look at it all day.

It has a big crown and doesn't frown.

It has a big smile even after all its days and that’s what I wanted to tell you about the New York ways.

-Patrick

The Cottage

I heard cracking of the old cottage house going click clack.

When I opened the window I felt the cold breeze run through my veins in Virginia.

I lay on my hard bed looking at the scratched up ceiling while I waited for my cousins and family to get up.

I saw the sun rising slowly through the light sky.

I loved the big cottage.

~Ethan