Making Sense

The poets from Waters Elementary School took an exercise in description and metaphors. We experience the world through our senses. The young writers wrote of an experience through describing it by only using their senses. Part 2 of this exercise was to use their senses in metaphorical ways to describe a feeling. Enjoy!


Molly S.

I see the gigantic tree tower over me

I hear the birds chirping around me

I feel the mossy ground as I walk

I smell the flowers from the wind moving it around

I taste the fresh cold breeze as I inhale


I see the sorrow and sadness on their faces

I can taste death roaming around me

I can smell the salty tear drops fall from their eyes

I can feel the pain like it’s stabbing me right through the heart

I hear the sobbing cries as they walk away from the body


Natalia B.

I see the turtles crawling on the toasty sand

I hear the humid breeze gush through the palm trees

I feel the rocks and shells lay beneath the shallow waters

I smell the saltwater through the wind

I taste the fallen fruits of the trees


I see the burning flames in your eyes

I hear your heart rapidly beating

I feel your pain constantly growing

I smell your rage from miles away

I taste your anger chasing at me


Barnes and Nobles

Soraya O.

I see many shelves of books

I smell the scent of fresh books waiting to be opened

I hear people pulling off books from the shelf

I touch the pages of the books

I taste the eagerness to get home and read my new book


Amber and Johnny Trial

I can see disgust on the faces of the audience

I can smell the anxiety on his face

I can hear her guilty conscience

I can feel the eagerness of the lawyers

I can taste the toxicity



Sofia A.

I see all the art supplies within my reach

I can smell the aroma of pens and paints

I can taste the cold minty gum on my mouth

I hear the beeping of the register

I touch all my new art supplies


I see all the art supplies begging me to buy them

I smell the aroma of spent money

I taste the excitement of using my new art supplies

I hear my money telling me not to spend

I touched all my art supplies


Gorman S.

I see the water droplets race each other down window

I hear the rain pounding down on the soaked umbrellas

I feel the warm coffee cup on the palm of my hand

I smell the sweet aroma of fresh baked goods

I taste the soft warm pockets of creamy chocolate in my cookie


I see into the intensity in their eyes

I hear nothing but my own thoughts telling me what to do

I feel my heart pounding out of my chest

I smell the fear of what is to come


Nathan D.L. C.

I see swings

I hear kids playing

I feel the wind grace my skin

I smell the metal

I taste the oxygen and humidity


I see the misery in their faces

I hear the pain in their voice

I feel the wind hit my skin

I smell the trash on the streets

I taste the agony in the air


Munich, Germany

Gracelyn C.

I see the endless row of churches and architecture

I feel the rough cobblestone roads and the slick park benches

I hear the endless buzz of footsteps and mangled conversation

I smell the distinctive scent of cigarettes all around

I taste the chewy pretzels and throat-chilling water


I see the destiny flash before me on the stage

I hear failure calling out to them, but simultaneously to me

I can almost feel the thud of disappointment as they march off

I can smell their miniscule hope

And I can taste the beginning of a new time


The Beach

Cora L.

I see the mountains curling around the grey edge

I hear waves crashing against the pebbly shore

I feel icy cold water wrapping around my legs like needles

I smell pure, fresh wilderness air

I taste the strong salt contaminating the waters’ surface


I can see the hate burning from your eyes

I can hear your roaring voice pounding in my ears

I can feel the guilt like a raw infected wound

I can smell the tension clouding up like a poisonous gas

I can taste the fact that it is all my fault


The Roof


I can hear birds chirping

I can feel the fresh air

I can smell the fresh air

I can smell the hot dogs stand

I can see people from my roof

I can taste the sandwich I’m eating


I smell freshly mowed grass

I hear the fans cheering my name

I taste the after-game snack

I feel the confidence of my good play

I see the ball coming to me


Car Crash

Benedetto L.    

I can hear people screaming

I can see glass breaking

I can feel my body swing side to side

I can taste the residue of gasoline

And I can smell the sweat of anxiety


I can smell the anxiety coming from the terror

I can see our terrible nightmare coming to life

I taste the fear I the air

I hear the past screams on my head

I am touched by the heart of the hurt ones




I can hear the rustling leaves and the trains running over the tracks

The taste of the deep dish pizza fills my taste buds

I can smell the freshness of the big lake that surrounds us

I look up at all the tall skyscrapers that cover the big blue sky

I can feel the wind in the air


I can hear the lands shaking

I can taste the heartbreak in my mouth

I can feel the rumbling of fear

I can see the nervousness of the cat

I can smell the fear in her eyes


On Top of a Roof

Kaya B.

The wind whistles past my ears, and I breathe in the sweet smell of spring. I feel the rough brick under my fingers as I hold onto the rectangular shapes. I can almost taste the honey coming from the honeysuckles planted on the rich ground. The green tops of the trees poke up around me, and their leaves seem to dance in the wind. The earthy smell from the ground below wafts around me.

I smell the nervousness of everyone around me. I can taste the smell coming from my dog. I can feel the presence of my sister walking into the room. The sound of sweat fills my ears. I can see into the soul of my sister.



I can only hear the chirping of cardinals eating seeds from bird feeders and the wind rustling trees’ branches.

The strongest smell is of the recent train that stormed down the tracks

Bright red, pink, yellow, and orange tulips are visible in the dark soil

The gate on the edge of this paradise feels rough

I can taste the fresh air that blows in the breeze


I hear the bright vocal sound of life

I smell the pungent peacefulness lingering in the air

I see nature’s masterpiece on display

A strong wall keeping me from learning is what I feel

I taste the kindness in the air

Yesterday Afternoon


Amelia C.

I can hear the chirping of birds and my friends talking

I can taste the sweet drink I bought at Harvestime

I can smell Ruby’s hot Cheetos

I can see the sun about to set over the horizon

I can feel the cold cement under me


The calm sounds of the birds chirping and windchimes fill my head

I can taste the sweet drink I bought

The smell of Ruby’s hot Cheetos wafts near me

I can see the sun about to set over the horizon

I can feel the cold cement we are sitting on



“Writing poetry makes me feel like I can see myself, like I can see my reflection, but not in a mirror, in the world. I write and I know I can be reflected.”
-Oscar S.

“Writing poetry makes me feel free.”
-Buenda D.

“Writing poetry is like your best friend.”
-Jessica M.