forum un poem i made in class
Started by @dennywrites group

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@dennywrites group

Our Grinch

there is a grinch on the ceiling
and we're crying for help
but not a squeak nor a yelp
will fall on the ears of our grinch

our grinch revels in our dismay
because we must do math today
we're unhappy and sad
and the grinch isn't mad
this day is his day to live

he feeds off our emotions
he loves when we are sad
this grinch of ours he loves today
for this grinch of ours loves math

the life in this room is muted
our grinch can't contain his glee
he jumps off the ceiling and onto the floor
and proceeds to dance with me

the math is no longer so dull
we're all happy and dancing and
oh, ever so gleeful!
the grinch has led us out of the quicksand
that was math class

and we are all happy
all except the teacher


Would you mind if I put one here too?
It's for creative writing. I was thinking to split this poem into 3. It was supposed to have a section on winter.

The Four Seasons

The heart of nature is the seasons
For we give them names
And names instill purpose

The four seasons,
like everything in this world,
have personality

Spring is her father’s child
The firstborn of Winter and Summer
She is the elder sister
who is distant and cold when you meet her
but as you get to know her
she warms
In her, lies all the coldness of her father
and all the warmth of her mother

She summons the power of this world
and brings life to nature
She takes care of us:
the young who rely on her
for she, like her mother,
is full of beauty as well as warmth

The warmest of the four,
brings forth light and prosperity
She is as gentle as her daughter
but as violent as her husband

She brings raging heat and tidal waves
Death and destruction
but we must not fault her for it
For we:
the Human race,
with our industry
have invoked her rage

We tell ourselves that it is her who ravages us
but we have done this to ourselves
Her temper will not lessen
if we stand idling by
and watch her fury destroy the planet
for which we call home

The youngest and shortest of the four,
The gentle brother,
Warm, like his mother
Cold, like his father

He creeps up on us with bouts of cold
and embraces us with warmth
Still not as deadly as his parents
He signals the time of hibernation
for much of nature

With his changing colors,
They remind us of his mother
who has only just passed

The warm hues of Summer melt
into the crisp, dark hues of Winter
He brings forth
the coldest, most brutal,
of the four with his passing