Poetry Friday: Poems from Third Grade, Part 4

Happy Poetry Friday!      I hope you brought your appetite. The Northfield E. S. third graders have more food poems to share with you today.But before we feast on lemonade, bubble gum, ice cream, pizza, and chocolate chip pancakes, I'd like to share a favorite poem by Naomi Shihab Nye. This week, the Poetry Friday community is celebrating Nye, our new Young People's Poet Laureate.Naomi Shihab Nye's "The Lost Parrot" is a poem that I think about and reread every time I do a school poetry residency. "The Lost Parrot" recounts a visiting poet running a series of workshops for young students. One boy, Carlos, writes about the same subject, no matter the prompt: his lost parrot.I hope you'll take a moment to listen to the poem. For me, Nye's "The Lost Parrot" captures the way a visiting poet interacts with young writers -- encouraging their stories and creativity without pushing an agenda, rarely getting to know the children beyond the poems they write. Sometimes we get bursts of insight into their lives, sense of humor, and interests. Other times, visiting poets are left with a question or mystery, as Nye experiences in "The Lost Parrot."Now on to today's delicious poems (and one salty cake).Awesome Awesome Tacos!By Aaron L.I smell the spices,the melted cheese,then I immediatelyknow what’s for dinner.AwesomeAwesomeTACOS!I feel the warmtacoshell in mymouthAwesomeAwesomeTACOS!I hear my familycrunch the tacos.CrunchyCrunchytacos.Yummy, the bestkind of tacos.***Sweet Chocolaty Chocolate Chip Pancakes!By Coco W.I jump out of the car.My mom says slow down.I hug Papa and myGrandma. When we getInside, Papa knows the people.We get some good seats. I sit nextto my cousin. My other cousin screams!“The food is arriving.” I smell the sweetdough. I see the melty chocolate laying onmy plate. My cheeks get very gooey withchocolate on my face. I get to take a bite.It is the biggest of them all! Deliciousdough mixed with chocolate melting in my mouth.***My Pecan PieBy Misha W.My family comes to the party-like feast.Then the pecan pie comes in on a white dish.My grandma made the best pecan pie around.I smelled the sweet pecans and the pie crust.I see the pecans popping out of the pie.When everyone grabs a piece, the yelling dies downand replacing it is a crunch and a munch.It’s finally my turn to feel the pecan pie.I feel the rough and moist crunch touching my hands.When it touches my mouth, I feel the warmth.I taste my sweet pecan pie.With the bready crust.“Burrrrp! Excuse me,” I say.“Can I have some more?”And my mom says no.I got the biggest piece of them all.***Salty CakeBy Reed S.Ew! Blah! My cake tastes like salt.It looks good, but is disgusting. ItSmells chocolaty, but tastes likesalt. Everybody is making faces!I can’t believe salt and sugargot mixed up.***Yummy MeatloafFor AnnaBy Ella O.2 hours in the ovenTo cook the meatloafWe’d runStraight from the parkI run to my house1 blockThen the house I reachThat smells like meatYou ranBecause you had the energy1 loaf of yummynessEverything on the meatloafExcept mustardDash that meatloafOnto plates and splash onAll the sauce to splash onRed tomatoes on the sideAvocados piled up on the sideShoveled up onto a plateMeatloaf for us to hold hotOn our forksPlates on the tableSit downGood meatloafWe’d eatFast till there was nothing leftBut little tiny pieces of meatAnd even a tiny bit of tomato sauceI would eat it allWe’d touchThe little food we would have leftYou hummingMe whistling***Good Cotton CandyFor My DadBy Hiba S.1 dollar a pieceto eat our dessert.We’d run to the cashierinstead of the car.Two blocks from our nextdestination (that smelledvery sweet). You paid becauseyou had the money.3 cotton candies and2 strips of ribbon. Evenjelly inside. Eat those cottoncandies. Lil' sister pickingher food. All that good stuffon top. White sprinkles andblue sprinkles. Stuck insidethe cotton candy. Rolled upin a plastic cone. Dollars onthe counter, sit down, goodcotton candies. We’d eatfast till there was nothingleft. But blue and whitesprinkles. Even cotton onmy face! We’d finish. You drivingand me saying, “Thank you.”***Good Ice CreamFor SaraBy Alisha K.1 dollar apieceTo eat our dessertWe’d run, me and youStraight from homeInstead of the parkTwo blocksThen the storeThat smelled like iceI orderedBecause I had the moneyTwo ice creams with two scoops for hereNothing on the ice creamExcept M and MsDash those ice creamsInto cones and dump on the flavorsAll that good stuffChocolate ice cream and M and MsAnd Skittles piled on top allRolled up in a napkinFor us to hold coldIn our handsA dollar on the counterSit downGood ice creamsWe’d eatFast till there was nothing leftBut leftover Skittles and M and MssThe little colors of Skittles and M and MsWe’d eatYou hummingAnd me with a smile***LemonadeBy Brian W.1 dollar a cup to drink our lemonade.I rush straight from school. Insteadof home, I got the other way. Thento the stand that smelled like snow.I ordered because I am thirsty.two lemonades and two ice for here.Everything on the lemonadeexcept straws. Stir those lemonadeinto drinks and splash onall the good stuff, lemons and miniumbrellas and ice on top allin a cup, paper for us to hold colddrinks in our hands.Dollars on the counter.Sit down. Good lemonade.I drink fast till there was nothingleft but mini umbrella and lemonseven the little cold ice of cubeswe’d slurp up the lemonade, youdrinking and me buying more.***PizzaBy Henry R.1 dollar apiece to eat my lunch.I would jog straight from schoolinstead of home. 5 blocksthen the store that smelledlike pizza. You ordered becauseyou had enough money for2 pizzas. Everything on thepizzas. Dash those pizzaswith all that good stuffand throw on somepepperoni and some pineapple.covered up with wax paper niceand warm. Quarters on thecounter. Sit down on the concrete.I would eat the greasy and yellow pizzafast till there wasn’t evena bite left. When I was finishedI trembled back home with a fullfat stomach.***Bubble GumBy Evan R.The sweetness of the tasteso chewy in my mouth.The pink bubble splats in my faceWith my baseball teammates around laugh.I stiff have parts of the bubble on my face.I watch the game still blowing bubbles.Me and my teammates smell the fresh airblow by our faces.I try to blow another bubblebut the air is too strong.***Thanks to the Northfield community for allowing me to share the third graders’ poems!For more of this year’s student poems, please check out:Poems from Third Grade, Part 1 — List Poems (Ms. Spencer, Ms. Sochol-Solomon, and Ms. Scavo’s classes)Poems from Third Grade, Part 2 — List Poems (Ms. Hilliard and Ms. Trodden’s classes)Poems from Third Grade, Part 3 — Food Poems (Ms. Hilliard and Ms. Trodden’s classes)