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The Poem of an Eighth-Grader (Free verse) by jessicazee I feel sad as a dandelion
losing yellowness fast
a setting sun, an evening of a flower.
Wispy grey hair is all that remains
that disappear with a child's weakest breath.
Blow and little dead dancers fall, scatter,
but it's okay, little girl,
the seeds will plant themselves.
Up the ladder:
When she beats me
Down the ladder:
The Chastisement of Cupid
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 6.8
Posted: January 14, 2003 3:42 PM PST; Last modified: January 14, 2003 3:42 PM PSTWeighted score: 5.2145653 Overall Rank: 4337 Comments:
[9]
horus8 @ 24.126.113.154
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14-Jan-03/5:00 PM
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Reply
also weedy.
Middle school genius.
very sweet. excellent idea for a poem. nice comparison.
okay, adult crticism, since you posted on an adult site: dandelions don't lose color at night; they close up. it's really cool to watch. so, lesson #1: write about what you know. that being said, the 'help' page on this site has some great references. this is one of my favorites: http://www.uni.edu/english/craft/imagery keep up the good work!
thanks for the input...
that being said, I am 30 yrs old, and I found this poem in an 8th grade journal of mine. I know they don't lose color at night; I think the "fading" bit was meant as a metaphor to the death of the flower and gradual reinvention to seed pod. Adult to elder. 222 view(s)
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