Monday, May 21, 2007


This poem by Maria, age 12, got me thinking about summer picnics in the park! Thanks Maria.~~Melanie

I take a bite of watermelon
inside pink outside green
infested with seeds of snow
and seeds of bark black bean

yes it tastes swell I must say
in my mouth it is good and crunchy
this little bit of heaven
so sweet and munchy

It smells so wonderful
this sweet smelling fruit
the bees come in swarms
to steal my precious loot

When I squeeze it into pulp
This crisp treat goes pop, pop, pop!
The green part though, when I feel
Seems to become hard as a cop

The my sister comes along
And asks, "What is that thing you're eating?"
I hear crunch, munch, buzz, pop!
I say, "That is a food you can't go beating."

It's Watermelon!


Anonymous said...

that is a very good poem! i love poems and am always writing them, although they aren't new moon quality. someday, maybe, i'll have one on new moon. again, great poem!

Poetry said...

The moon is gone.

She fled as dawn approached.

Dawn as a slowly opening eye.

White sea birds skimming over the water,

looking for an early morning snack.

The mirror brightens.

From a blood moon at dawn to a mirror

reflecting waking life...


I woke her to take the moon.

Her campaign was swift and terrible.

Metallic and fierce.

Flaring up in the twilight.

But the moon was both implacable and unreacheable

and in the end the war against the moon failed.

As dawn rose slowly from her bed, the moon slipped away.

But in the end, all that was lost,

was a little sleep....