The following is a tribute written by one of my fifth grade students, Raquel, to her father who had died when she was a toddler. Even though her memories of him are fleeting she holds on. I hope you found that it touched you as it had me.
I thought of you today, but that is nothing new. I thought yesterday and days before that too. I think of you in silence, I often speak your name. All I have are memories and a picture in a frame. Your memory is a keepsake, from which I’ll never part. GOD has you in his arms and I’ll have you in my HEART.
Even though I don’t have my Dad here with me, I have a father figure and his name is Gregory. He’s smart, generous and caring he’s one of several SUPER DADS ever. He deserves nothing less from me. I LOVE him just like my Dad.
Happy Father’s Day! To all you wonderful and caring fathers out there!
Hi! I have been away from posting on my blog for quite some time. the fact is I am still to master the skill of time management. Nevertheless, this morning my fifth grader brought a cute little poem for me to read… I read and decided to share my joy and fun of reading the fifth grader’s poem. With her permission, I here thee present her poem. Have fun.
By: Shashi Moore
‘My Dog Spot’
My dog’s name is spot
I love him a lot
His nick-name is dot
because dot rhymes with spot
he like to ripe my shoes
as well as things in my room
My dog spot is short
other dogs like to take
advantage of him a lot
but I make sure no
other dog hurt my little dot
Spot like to play outside a lot
spot is not harmful dog
he is a nice spot
I would not give away mu spot
because I love him a lot.
BY: Raquel Meenkum
picture it and write/ via ermilia blog
Snooping, itch to know more
Irresistible dragging’s from within the core
Ablaze stare for a foretaste, but yields eye full
Having to belie the twitch and scuttle, or drift down to the pill
Beyond boundaries boarder less, dreams flooded slide,
Mists of pleas preventing one’s flight yonder glide
All comes alive, the last breath, the last shout, last look,
the last beat’ the last throb and even last prayer.
Stop the enflamed glows jumping from fist. Stop!
With no ifs and buts;
Beams beeping Brilliance
My basic instincts
By: Shashi Moore