In Ms. Krasic’s class, we read Pablo Neruda’s “Ode to My Socks.” The students pointed out how wild and surprising his imagery was and how the socks seemed to transform his humble feet. We wrote poems about a special gift we’ve received. We thought about last week’s lesson and wrote about what senses the gift reminded us of and what metaphors and similes could emerge from those memories. They wrote such beautiful poems!
Biriyani
-Akbar
A hand
delicately cuts and mixes.
It pours and stirs.
It steams and heats.
It cools and serves.
A prize a gift
a golden metal.
An aroma with no equal.
A taste like no other.
It glows with perfection.
Each grain an art piece
and each better than the last.
Taste so plentiful
eat until full.
Ode to My Old Pen
-Hugh
My pen is a
tall tower among
the others, it creates a
dark room with a
little book in the middle.
The sound of
wrinkling paper rings
in my hand
and the strokes of
black thunder popping
from each stroke.
The fresh smell of books and
paper appears when
I open the pen.
While the odd
taste of stale
chips comes to mind
while I write.
Great Grandma’s Soup
-Aphrodite
I love her very much,
my great grandma.
The soup she always
makes reminds me we’re
all okay.
She lowers the
tv that’s blasting
church and has us sit
at the table with her.
The soup she
always makes
sits on the table
when she pulls us in an
embrace.
The humble and
warm scent of church
bread and olive oil
fills the air.
My family and I
walk into my
Great Grandma’s
house.
The sky is filled
with diamonds or stars
when we arrive.
