Dear Poets & Guests,
Congratulations! We gather today to celebrate writing excellence. Your winning efforts reflect outstanding poetry writing from over 3,000 entries. The Board and I salute you, and we applaud your parents, teachers, family and friends who guide and support your poetic endeavors.
Whitman wrote, “Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poems.” We are delighted you have “stopped this day” and we invite you to return for our family events, educational programs, Scout badge opportunities, and literary events.
We strive to maintain the highest standards as a community asset, a literary crossroads, a national attraction, and a world renowned Historic Site. Therefore, your contributions are vital. In order to continue offering programs at the lowest cost to the widest possible public, we must rely on all of you to support our activities.
So stop by, walk in Walt’s footsteps, and contribute in a way that suits you best – join, re-join, volunteer, donate. You will receive rewards far beyond your expectations!
Congratulations and keep writing!
Category F – Grades 3 & 4
Mrs. Shari Zindman / “The Voice of Elements”
Locust Valley Intermediate School
Category G – Grades 5 & 6
Mrs. Rand & Miss Casey / “Behold the Elements”
JFK Middle School
Category H – Grades 7 & 8
Mr. Karl O’Leary / “Nature is Always With Me”
Mt. Sinai Middle School - Period 3
Category I – Grades 9 & 10
Mr. Mark Kenny / “Aspects of Power”
W.T. Clarke High School - Period 6
Category J – Grades 11 & 12
Mrs. Sullivan / “Elemental Voices”
Patchogue Medford High School - Period 2
“Dear Mother Cloud”
Dear mother cloud, must I evaporate?
I fear I might never fall with the other droplets again.
And yet I dream; exploring the oceans and waterfalls of the world.
Swimming like a fish in the deep blue lake.
Flowing with the gushing water of the river.
And in the vast ocean, I shall fly with the crashing waves.
And then under the stifling sun
I disappear into an oblivion that no one knows.
I’ll be back soon raining down drip drop drip drop
As I fall once again.
A lonely drop of water.
The Laurel Hill School, Grade 3, Ms.Rosella
“The Elegant Earth”
I am the voice of the Earth, may these words be clearly heard and audible,
for I have a vital message to be delivered.
Such a marvelous planet should be treated like so, and its inhabitants must respect the requests of others.
My spirit has been present upon this land for all of eternity, and many sights, had I, the ability to savor.
I am the voice of the Earth, which may gradually fade away into nothing. May you answer my prayers, and set things just. Return nature to what it had once been.
Beautiful flowers, blooming in the gleaming sunlight, concealed by tall blades of grass, dancing in the spring breeze of a field.
Trees rooted within the soil, birds chirping in the treetops, and leaves rustling in abundance.
I am the voice of the Earth – diverse, nurturing, spacious, and vivid with every color imaginable.
Steep rocky canyons like a towering mountain, and deep grassy valleys digging down into the dirt.
I am the voice of the Earth – providing life and resources to all, maintaining beauty and serenity upon our planet.
Wisdom Lane Middle School, Grade 6, Mrs. Grubb/Mrs. Gallagher
One last deep breath before I start the next chapter in my life.
I sprint ahead with passion, fueled by a fire that burns inside.
With earth below my every step and wind blown in my face.
I will not let it slow me down, I must finish this race.
I pull myself, step over step, ahead as land passes by to
New fields of view and new chances too, that I face as the time expires.
But I do not forget what fuels me, not water, not food nor pride.
A desire propels my every step that no element can subside.
A hunger to reach something to get to something more.
To carve a path out for myself one I didn't have before.
My destiny is calling, I must push myself ahead
To reach the points that I believe will eliminate regret.
I run each day, I run each week, I run each month, I run every year
Towards goals in life both near and far, bringing purpose to why I’m here.
This race is never ending in all the days I've known.
And if I win or if I lose, this race was on my own.
The life I lead, the path I take, this is my day in the sun.
My only day, my only life, before my flame burns out
Plainview-Old Bethpage Middle School, Grade 8, Mr. Reinhold
“À Tes Souhaites”
(Sigh) gentle, the epitome of
Breath warm and wet with morning dew
Bestow a kiss of sunlight on the cheek of dawn
Like a string, bobbing and weaving
Through open windows, rippling curtains
With good news.
(Sigh) tender, the essence of
Brush my lips with crisp reprieve
While the sun is beating as a pounding drum
A breeze through the trees is a flute
Which trills and leaves
(Just a whisper) of magic
By the sea.
(Sigh) peace, the embodiment of
Though some may argue the violence of the skies
Whipping and biting, thief of such trivials
As umbrella and life
I claim peace prevails in the mood and mind
Of prevailing winds, which know no time-
(For war or pain) They know only to blow, and blow again.
Ward Melville High School, Grade 10, Ms. Jennifer Thomas
“The Spark of the Sun”
Upon overhearing articulations spoken by fiery blaze to reticent timber,
The forest fire, it proudly proclaims:
Hello King Tree, I am a sorcerer's promise, I am the mystic spark of the sun; That orb in the sky lights me with its eyes, and I grace these hills come summertime,
In narrow puffs which breathe and bend the cautious wind,
In narrow slivers which reach up and throw caution to the wind,
I grow playful when meeting low-lying brush, dry twigs, fallen detritus;
From quiet ember I rise, a roaring inferno,
I crackle and curl, I am tall, I burn brilliant, I devour the fruits I am fed.
Had I been set by man, I'd engulf your outstretched dendrites,
And spiral into smoke clouds, leak past leaves into sky;
How I'd be ruthless, how I'd wreck acres, leaving fallow ground behind me,
The progressives, how they'd flood the place, crying oceans for humanity;
How I'd drag the miserable breath out of your wooden lungs, gasping,
How you'd be burnt and bare, standing there, quite alone, shivering,
Stunned into silence by my unforeseen fury, you'd crumble,
Into dust, blown across the graves of your beloved fellow brethren.
But I am nature-born; I respect my elders, when introduced to royalty,
My dear King Tree, I won't harm you;
I am but here to clear away dead foliage, lustful matches,
I can only edge around your damp, impenetrable barrier, and ignore those who are alive, inhaling,
I drink the oxygen you provide, always licking my fingers of surplus air;
Do not despair when I leave without a shadow of warmth in my wake,
For departure allows the unearthing of fresh commencements,
And the ashes, they are celebrated profusely: the soil renewed, and enriched, for nativity.
Ward Melville High School, Grade 11, Lisa Rochford
I dance, unwillingly, around the battered brick fireplace that contains me;
how I long to escape this calamitous cage that confines me every night.
My actions are determined, not by myself, but by my merciless masters,
who watch me, intently, as I slowly die out, like a small child drifting off to sleep.
“Will I ever be free from this everlasting task of warming my masters on a chilly winter’s day?”
I think to myself,
“Will I finally be able to explore a different part of this wonderful world that I have not yet seen myself?”
I am ignited, once again, and repeat the monotonous task I am assigned to perform.
I see my masters glide over to the hearth, their mesmerized faces slowly creeping closer to me,
focusing on the wisps of smoke that are emitted from my body.
The swirling smoke surrounds their surprised faces,
as distinctly I hear them start to gasp and cough up the thick smoke.
This event, while utterly unfortunate for my masters, seems to amuse me;
all I could think is that I wanted more…
I feel ferocious flames spreading rapidly across my masters’ floor;
I hear their helpless cries piercing through the sounds of the crackling fire.
The smell of something burning is in the air,
and I feel a surge of power rush through every part of me,
reaching to the very edges of my body.
“I am finally free from the terrible cage of the fireplace, and my masters!” I think to myself,
as a wide wicked smile stretches across my face.
I have never felt so alive.
Mt. Sinai Middle School, Grade 8, Karl O’Leary
“The Age of Concordia”
An unimaginable world of harmony and peace,
Before might was right,
Before Earth was cruel.
When innocence was not ignorance,
When fear ceased to exist.
A world of peace, of love, of verity, of amity.
When Terra was the mother of all, and lover of all.
When the sun would rise through Elysian fields, people would
dance and shout in joy to see their beloved Helios put on a
Not yet had human blood tainted Mother Earth and changed this
The needle of envy had not yet pierced the innocent thoughts.
Concordia, wandering here and there, would watch.
To see a world in ceaseless-joy which now harbors avarice and
To find hope, faith and harmony, then find greed, treason and lies.
The concept of Concordia, now locked in endless sleep,
Gone forever, disappeared and dissipated into thin air.
In roots of trees you’ll find it.
Concordia lost her silent battle. . . .
It seems it evanesced into particles unknown to man.
Blood of man has blemished to perfection of Elysium,
And though this world has lost all hope,
Maybe you will find some.
Open the jar Pandora left and find that Elpis stayed put.
If you open the jar,
And let her out of the confined space which has been her own for
Let the world know that Elpis is here.
And may they know that there is always hope for Elysium.
JFK Middle School, Grade 6, Mrs. Rand/Miss Casey