Written by: Kalen Lewis

White is the color of paper,

Before it meets the pen.

Blue is the color of music,

A soulful tune back then.

Yellow is the color of paint,

On the canvas-on the shelf.

Red is the color of fire,

A beautiful art in itself.

~

I've had a little trouble with titling pieces lately. I can't seem to find that perfect title that fits the poem. So, please excuse the lack of title for now.

The Pine Tree

Written by: Kalen Lewis

The pine tree's bark,
Is heavy with sound.
The roots spring up,
Rising from the ground.
The fungus grows there,
But it droops down.
The pine tree's bark,
Is heavy with sound.

Ants and beetles,
Birds and squirrels.
Dwellers of the great pine,
It's own little world.
The needles do not poke them,
The bark does not scratch.
How I wish that I were them,
On their humble path.

The black cat watches,
Her tail ever flicking.
Those yellow eyes are steady,
Never are they blinking.
She watches for the birds at night,
And toys with the beetles.
Her cold gaze never wavers,
Until the squirrels come chasing.

~

Yes, I know. The last bit doesn't match the rhyming scheme that the rest of the third stanza has. But "chasing" seemed like the right word.
As usual... I hope you enjoyed!

-Kalen

Esperanza's Poem

"I want to be
like the waves on the sea, 
like the clouds in the wind,
but I'm me.
One day I'll jump
out of my skin.
I'll shake the sky
like a hundred violins."

-Esperanza

Sandra Cisneros, The House on Mango Street, "Born Bad", pages 73-74.