"How To Be An Ocean"
 
Have to be salty
Must be noisy with your sway
Have to be home to fish
And to other underwater
Creatures
Must listen to the Moon
Be Cold!!!
Have to be rough at the
Bottom.
 
By Emma R., Santa Fe, New Mexico  
 
 
"Six Ways of Looking at My Mom"
 
“Ring, Ring” My mom answers the phone She says, “hola, hola”
 
I know you like to eat hot, sweet posole
 
Cooking fish in the kitchen. “Sssss” It sizzles in the pan
 
Bouncing, brown, big kangaroos are your favorite animals, but you're scared of snakes
 
Your skin looks like a new brown baby rabbit
 
You try to speak English and it makes me proud
 
By Alexa C., Los Angeles, California
 
 
"Eating Gau With Aunty Traci At Her House In Ewa Beach"
 
The sunlight burns my back
as I swim in Aunty Traci's oval pool.
The wind hums through my long hair.
Teriyaki chicken cooks
on the hot barbeque stove.
 
Aunty Traci gives me a sweet
piece of gau with her smooth hands.
I lift the sticky treat to my mouth.
The sky prays for my family
to be together forever.
 
By Korilyn O., Honolulu, HI
 
Honorable Mentions in Grades K-3 English Category:
 
"Mother, I Lied"
 
I lied to
you
through the
center of my
eye
About those toys
I didn't
want
anymore
Broken, dirty,
some dusty,
trying to
breathe
Ones I've
treated like
nothing lay
quietly in
my toy box
like people
in their
beds
fast asleep.
 
By Hayley K., Modesto, California
 
 
"December 19, 1997"
 
When I was born,
I swam with whales
and ran with elephants
like wild shadows
climbing over mountains
and into the oceans.
 
Then it was like the vast seas
blended in watercolors
while hungry elephants touched
the water's edge.
 
And when the wild ones danced
in the forest and the whales swam
in the seas, that was when I was born.
 
By Keenan D., Honolulu, Hawaii

 
"Primavera"
 
Primavera es una estación cálida del año.
Ricos aromas de flores en el ambiente hay.
Imposible estar triste.
Muchos colores puedo ver en los jardines.
Abril es un mes de la primavera.
Vuelan ls mariposas de colores alegrando nuestros días.
En el ambiente se seinte amor.
Respiro el aire fresco.
Amo la primavera.
 
"Spring"
 
Spring is a season when the temperature is warm
Wonderful fragrances of flowers fill the atmosphere.
It is impossible to be sad.
I can see beautiful colors in every garden.
April is a month of spring.
The colorful butterflies brighten our day as they fly.
In the atmosphere you feel love
as you breathe the fresh air.
I love the spring.
 
By Ana G., Pico Rivera, California
 
 
"El niño en la ventana"
 
¿Qué miras por la ventana?
Miro el sol que ya se va.
Y me dice hasta mañana.
Pedí madre si volverá.
Volverá hijo querido.
Volverá.
Y cuando tu te despiertes
ell ate abrazará.
 
"The Boy in the Window"
 
What do you watch through the window?
I watch the sun that already set
and it says to me see you tomorrow.
I asked if mom will return.
She will return dear son.
She will return.
And when you wake up
she will hug you.
 
By Cristian R., Birmingham, Alabama
 
 
"Mi querida abuelita"
La mamá de mi mamá
Es como un
Corazón
Ella mantenía a mi
mamá
y le hacía
Galletitas
y pan
Pero lo unico que no
tenía era
dinero pero
Me siento muy
triste
Pero yo voy a estar
con ella cuando me
 necesite
Y yo la voy a tener en mi Corazón
 
"My dear grandmother"
The mother of my mother
is like a
heart.
She supported my
mother
and made her
cookies
and bread.
But, the
Only thing that thing
that she didn't have to give her
was money.
I feel very
sad.
But, I will be there
With her when she
needs me.
And I will have her in my
heart.
 
By Cynthia S., San Diego, California

 
"The Swingset"
 
Wood rots,
ropes fray,
metal rusts,
 
memories stay.
 
It stands there
deserted in the midst
of many times climbed
and swung from.
 
Sometimes it was a ship
escaping from a strorm. O
ther times, many times,
it was the Saab convertible a friend and I
drove to McDonald's.
 
Now, year of playing cease.
It's just a goal for flashlight tag,
where people sulk after losing
or
preen after winning.
 
At times I want to shed my childhood,
but somehow I can't cart it away
to the dump where
swingsets are shredded,
where times past
can't ever
return.
 
By Grace W., Edgecomb, Maine
 
 
"His Hands"
 
He might look like a plain old man
But take a peek at his hands
Gnarled from work
Tanned from the sun
Like leather from the land
The nails are dark and jagged
His fingers long and graceful
A scar cuts across his knuckles
Shows his life has never been easy
When he shakes another's hand
His grip is firm, but gentle
Hands are resting now
No longer busy with work
They have taught me many things
And told so many stories
 
By Kaly A., Earlham, Iowa
 
 
"Where I'm From"
 
I'm from black charcoal
From paintbrushes, glitter pens, and watercolors
I'm from stone paths and hardwood floors
From “C'mon guys,” and “Are we there yet?”
I'm from “Go to bed,” and “You can do it!”
I'm from broken pencils and creative writing when the moon is full
From pages filled with feeling
And illustrations with beautiful, vivid pictures
I'm from paper in ringed binders
From stories, comic books, and laugh-out-loud scenes
I'm from decorative low tables and no forks
From Bali and Jakarta
I'm from pollution
From lakes you could walk on
Filled with rusted metal
I'm from moon cakes
In decorated boxes
And bubbly sodas that come in packs
From chopping blocks and band-aids
From musical notes and jealous baby sisters
I'm from fluffy, yellow sponge cakes
That taste rich and sweet
And trails of bread crumbs left by my hungry dog
I'm from Liem and Tio
Tan and Tjan
I'm from a place
Where I feel comfortable
I'm from a place called home
 
By Sabrina I., Los Angeles, California 
 
Honorable Mentions in Grades 4-8 English Category:
 
"Debunking the Glory"
 
It is five a.m.
I pull on
moist, sticky gloves
and work my way up to the bow.
A huge tray of bait awaits me:
one hundred and thirty pounds
of slimy, gray fish carcasses-
loose and squishy on the top,
hard and pancaked underneath.
Dead,
rotting
herring
 
lurk.
 
I plunge in my hand,
and the feeding flying ants
take flight.
I pull out three mutilated corpses
and shove them into an orange baitbag.
 
Ben turns the wheel,
and now I'm downwind.
The stench is overwhelming.
I retch,
switch positions,
and continue to pull out
mangled herring
and force them into bags.
 
Ten down,
thirty to go.
 
Blood swirls in the tray.
Glazed eyes
stare at me eerily
from beneath a layer
of grime and salt.
I look away
and continue my gruesome work.
 
Twenty down,
twenty to go.
 
A fish head flies
out of a slimy hand
and lands in the water.
A ragged gull swoops down
and swallows it whole.
Its neck bulges,
and its body convulses,
and it grunts.
I suppress my gag reflex
and thrust more fish
into the netted pocket.
 
Thirty down,
ten to go.
 
A boat putts by
ferrying an entire family in life jackets.
Tourists.
They coo
and comment on how sweet it is:
two blond boys-brothers?-
lobstering together;
how lucky they are to understand the value
of hard work.
 
They take out their cameras
and snap pictures of us.
I become rigid
and fight the urge to reach out and shove
the twisted corpse in my hand
down one of their throats.
 
Finally
they pass us by,
and I continue forging
through my task.
 
Thirty-five down,
five to go.
 
I reach the bottom of the tray
and slosh my hand through the blood
to locate the dregs of the bait.
I salvage enough and, finally, complete my repulsive task-
the bait tray lies defeated,
empty,
 
and the dock appears
through he morning mist.
I resist a cheer
as I step off the skiff.
 
Forty down,
zero to go.
 
It is seven thirty.
I pull off my gloves,
charge up the dock,
and claim my right
to the first shower.
 
By Nathaniel W., Edgecomb, Maine
 
 
"Autism"
 
The flower that never blooms,
The sun that never shines.
They are there, but they are not.
They are a shadow in a sea of light.
And yet in their world of eternal winter and isolation
There is some light,
A fluorescent light that is always shining,
Invisible to the outside world.
But in their darkened shell
Flowers bloom,
Sun shines,
Wind blows,
Happiness is found,
In a great cloud of isolation.
 
By Alec W., Lawrence, New York

 
"Mi papá"
 
Mí papá
me guía como un mapa
y cuando llueve
me cubre como una capa.
 
Juega conmigo
como el viento
y en las malas
es mi aliento.
 
Es un tesoro
más valioso
que el oro
y es pore eso
que lo adoro.
 
"My papá"
 
My papá
guides me like a map
and when it rains
he covers me like a cap.
 
He plays with me
like the wind
and in the bad times
he is my breath.
 
He is a treasure
more valuable
than gold and it is for that
that I adore him.
 
By Mónica R., Guaynabo, Puerto Rico
 
 
"La Naturaleza"
 
 La naturaleza canta una canción.
Es una canción de la vida en el bosque,
De las estaciones.
 
Es una canción del cielo abierto.
La melodía tiene la luna bonita
Y el sol brillante.
 
La naturaleza canta y los árboles
Bailan mientras las montañas miran.
 
La naturaleza tiene un corazón.
Es un corazón muy grande y es abierto a
Todas las personas y
Todos los animales.
 
La naturaleza tiene un alma.
Es un alma fuerte y simpática.
 
Nosotros bailamos mientras la naturaleza
Canta una canción.
 
"Nature"
 
Nature sings a song.
It is a song of life in the forest,
of the seasons.
 
It is a song of the open sky.
The melody has a beautiful moon
and a brilliant sun.
 
Nature sings and the trees
dance while the mountains watch.
 
Nature has a heart
It is a very large and open heart
to all people and
to all animals.
 
Nature has a spirit.
It is a strong and kind spirit.
 
We dance while nature sings a song.
 
By Laura S., Shorewood, Wisconsin
 
 
"Un Día Fantástico"
 
Hoy es un día fantástico,
Veo el sol y el mar del Océano Atlántico.
Que lindo está el mar,
En el me provoca nadar.
 
Jugaré en la arena,
y en ella dibujaré una linda ballena.
Hoy es un día fantástico.
Lo recordaré como si de el tuviera un retrato fotográfico.
 
"A Fantastic Day"
 
Today is a fantastic day,
I see the sun and the sea of the Atlantic Ocean.
How beautiful the sea is,
It causes me to swim in it.
 
I will play in the sand,
and in it, I will draw a beautiful whale.
Today is a fantastic day.
I will remember it as if I had a photograph of it.
 
By Gabriella M., Houston, Texas
 
 
All Spanish translations by Michelle Williamson.