I will tell you how to play Freeze Tag.  First, you need to choose a person to be the tagger.  Next, the tagger will say, “Start!” and everyone will run away from the tagger.  If the tagger tags someone, the person that was tagged has to freeze.  Then, the people that were not tagged have to try to tag the frozen person.  If that people that have not been tagged tag the person, they will unfreeze.  If the tagger tags everyone, then the tagger wins!  You can play this game many times.

A stinky sock that has a hole,

A dirty stuffed animal that was a mole,

A broken crayon,

A soda can,

A math test I forgot to do,

A down that’s supposed to say moo,

And a note from mom that said,

“Where’s my bath bomb?”

From, Mom

I chose a piece of art that meant something to my heart.  I love how the painting is very detailed.  It looks like a normal painting from afar, but when you look up close, it’s really just patterns stuck together in a painting.  The painting I’m looking at is of a field with a few bushes and pine trees.  It has fluffy white clouds up in the sky.  Vincent Van Gogh painted this amazing painting.  It is called “Yellow Wheat and Cypresses.”

1.  Cute baby animals
2. Pretty flowers
3. New grass
4. Fresh air
5. Listening to bird songs
6. Putting out birdseed
7. Planting flowers in the garden
8. Playing on the swings
9. Watching birds fly from tree to tree
10. Jumping on our trampoline
11. Watching tv with my family while eating ice cream
12. Smelling the flowers
13. Swimming in our pond in late spring
14. When it rains, jumping in the puddles

A form change poem

(with thanks to David Bouchard, If You’re Not From the Prairie . . . )

 

If you’re not from New England,

You’ve never tasted syrup.

Buckets of sap, boiling hot, steaming.

Open your mouth!  Taste it!

Sugary, smooth, sliding down your throat.

If you’re not from New England,

You’ve never tasted syrup.

 

If you’re not from New England,

You haven’t felt the wind.

Cold, stinging,

Burning your cheeks and ears.

Making your nose pink,

Creeping into your sleeves,

Taking over.

Warmth gone, you run inside to get rid of that icy wind.

If you’re not from New England,

You haven’t felt the wind.

 

If you’re not from New England,

You haven’t seen animals.

Black, brown, white, every color.

Dashing, scampering, slipping, sliding animals,

Every size, type, and kind.

If you’re not from New England,

You haven’t seen animals.

 

If you’re not from New England,

You haven’t seen the woods.

Dark, dreary, close-together trees,

Everywhere, covering the land.

Don’t get lost!

There’s a chance it won’t be easy

Getting out of those trees.

If you’re not from New England,

You don’t know trees.

 

If you’re not from New England,

You don’t know the mud.

Icky, sticky, mushy, a mess!

Mixed with the slush,

Mud glues you to the ground.

It is likely that you’re not going to get out

Of this boot-swallowing disaster.

If you’re not from New England,

You don’t know the mud.

 

My hair is the swaying grass.

My eyes are filled with water droplets.

My feet grip the ground with dark, brown roots.

My veins are flowing with syrup.

I love New England.

I was scared of the thundercloud outside.

Clatter, clatter went the rain on the roof.

Chatter, chatter went my teeth, unstoppable.

Scatter, scatter went the leaves on the lawn.

I jumped when I heard the thundercloud say, “BOOM!  BOOM!

I know you’re safe in your room!

BOOM!  BOOM!

But I’ll get you soon at half past noon!

BOOM!  BOOM!”

That thundercloud sure does like to loom

Around my room!