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By Rachel Anderson

Sitting still and quiet,

Listening, seeing and feeling

The trees and leaves whistling in the wind

The Willows budding with delight and joy

With the sun high in the sky,

And people walking everywhere

Names engraved in bricks that create a path,

With freshness all throughout the air

Me in the outdoors,

Listening, seeing and feeling

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Tortuga Ten Cuidado                Por Ashley Morales-Rivas

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Tortuga Ten Cuidado                Por Ashley Morales-Rivas

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Tortuga ten cuidado

Cuando cruzas la calle

Tortuga ten cuidado

Cuando venga un carro.

Tortuga, ten cuidado

Cuando viene un animal que te quiere comer

Tortuga, tortuga

Te quiero.

Turtle, Be Careful

By Ashley Morales-Rivas

Turtle be careful

When you cross the street

Turtle be careful

When a car comes

Turtle be careful

When an animal comes that wants to eat you

Turtle, turtle

I love you

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Dormi                                           Por Sofia Resendiz

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Dormi                                           Por Sofia Resendiz

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Dormi es como una bebe tranquila.

Dormi es como una  calida manta.

Dormi es como suaves gotas de lluvia

cayendo por tu ventana.

Dormi es como tu mamá canta una

canción de cuna.

Dormi es como limpiar pj después

de una ducha caliente.

Me gusta dormi.

Sleep

By Sofia Resendiz

Sleep is like a calm baby.

Sleep is like a warm blanket.

Sleep is like soft raindrops falling on the window.

Sleep in like your mom singing a lullaby.

Sleep is like clean pajamas after a hot shower

I like sleeping.

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Pollo Cruza la Calle - Videojuego Por Davis Ramirez Hernandez

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Pollo Cruza la Calle - Videojuego Por Davis Ramirez Hernandez

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Eres un pollo.

Tienes que cruzar la calle.

Tienes que intentar evitar los coches para no morir.

Y si te quedas en algún lugar demasiado tiempo, un águila viene y te lleva.

¡Intentar sobrevivir!

Chicken Cross the Road - A Video Game

By Davis Ramirez Hernandez

You are a chicken.

You have to cross the road.

You have to avoid the cars so you don’t die.

If you stay any place too long, an eagle comes and takes you away.

Try to survive!

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By Elizibeth Walsh

A small cottage, in the forest, not perfect but fit for the need, big windows with gorgeous flowers and succulents all over. White paint all over the outside, with a small swing in the backyard. It seemed nobody had lived there. Moss growing all over, but pretty moss. It smelled of cookies and milk. A small oven and a table, with China teapots and plates. A little seat in the corner, with a half-knit sweater on the edge. A small picture, with a family in it. Someone had been ripped out, though. In the littlest room, there was a paper, with writing on. The paper was old and written with ink, and splatters all over. It seemed to be wet, not with water, but with tears. The letter had written, “Dearest- the name had been smudged off when the water fell. The writing was beautiful- no prepossessing. It had been dated from years back, but the words were crisp and new. Full of love. The ending was heartbreaking. I shed a tear onto the paper, and it dropped gracefully. The house was old, and creaky, but I still wanted to make this home. Along with the letter, there were two envelopes: One dedicated to “My Love” the other, had not been written, although it had three roses and a poem. I didn’t want to read it for it might be personal. Something was inside it, peeking through. It was the piece to the picture I had seen earlier. This house had been built by the owners, and everything they owned was in here. I walked into the bedroom, and as soon as I stepped onto the tile floor, something caught my eye. A flower, sitting in a vase with a letter on a white nightstand with a flower print. That letter was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I shed another tear.That small cottage in the forest.

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By Elizibeth Walsh

My Best Friend was absent today
Nothing to do
Nothing to play
My other friends are with their other friends
And the kids I usually play basketball with
Have made the game now fight of the jedi vs sith
The book I usually read
Is now my brother’s
And my drawing paper was borrowed by my mother
I don’t have a phone
I don’t have an ipod
I can’t wait til you come back
Dear Best friend
No one to laugh at
No one to call stupid
No one to listen to stupid songs with
No one to have fun with
Please come back
It’s getting very boring at recess

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By Ethan Villa

Nothing is flawless but, that doesn't mean bliss is nonexistent

Even the floor shall crack and have sharp edges

Even if that glow shall soon go away

Never take the disappearance the wrong way

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By Laila Varner

You worry about race
You worry about fires

What about people's opinions, thoughts, desires?

You talk about politics
You speak about religions

But when will you just stop and listen?

If someone doesn't follow the crowd,
You shove them, you push them out. (Around)

I don't like Picasso. That's alright.

Some people hate Billie Eilish. Are you telling me that's not fine?

Some people don't like Minecraft.
Now personally, I don't relate. (Feel this way)
But when...

When will you learn to listen to what they have to say?
There is probably a completely valid reason right in front of your face.

If I think differently, why should I be treated this way?

You say that everybody is equal, but sometimes NO ONE has a say

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By Jessica Sisalima

You could disappear in there,

Get lost so easily,

What is it that you get lost in?

Your mind?

Or others,

What is the reason or who is the reason

Did you do it or cause it?

Did they do it?

It's easy to lie to yourself but the way you lie to yourself

Is also the way you tell yourself this is right or wrong

When you say it's right you're sure but when you say its wrong are you?

When you look up what do you see? The sun,sky, or stars?

I hate the night but... the stars make up for it, the constellations

And the shapes their color and shine, but when you see the same star you feel the same happiness

It’s almost like a animal, they hide their food for winter, sometimes they can’t find it,

But when they can they are happy...also hungry.

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by Emily Nevermann

The cool wind reminds me of her,

How we would skate down the streets with our hair blowing.

But when she leaves i will be worried,

I am worried because what if our memories are forgotten just like an evergreen tree.

What if we forget our bound and our friendship because of the rock that will separate us apart.

The bench that we sit on will stay cold,

The sun won't hit it anymore.

When i fall in the mud it won't be the same i will sit and want to cry as I watch the grass decay.

And the summers,

They just won't be the same.

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by Madison Woodin

They are filled with books,
They will make you look
For your favorite book.