Let’s Play Pretend

Me and my friend are at my house,

We are bored and tired and cannot go out.

My brain pops up with a brilliant idea

LET’S PLAY PRETEND!

Grab your backpack let’s go explore,

Through the jungle we push away bushes while we tumble.

LET’S PLAY PRETEND!

We drive an ice cream truck,

Children all ages screen wahoo, horray, yippee!

LET’S PLAY PRETEND!

We dive in the ocean to swim with the dolphins,

While our flippers keep on floppin’

LET’S PLAY PRETEND!

We soar in our spaceship, then land on the moon.

Oh well it is half past noon!

LET’S PLAY PRETEND!

We are at a pizzeria, flipping through the dough.

I spin the dough once, I spin it twice and oops it falls on my head!

LET’S PLAY PRETEND!

I yawned and so did my friend,

Both of us plopped on my bed.

The lights turned out, and

we fell fast asleep

by Kasvi Mavani

Grade 4, Walter & Gladys Hill Public School

Home is the Boreal

Flocking together,

Stuffed from berry-filled trees.

Waxwings fly home,

To the woods, in a breeze.

Attracting lovers,

With sounds of rhythm and rhyme.

Hairy Woodpeckers do not sing.

They peck on spruce and pine.

Though the Pileated Woodpeckers,

With flaming red chests.

Stop hikers in their tracks,

With a laugh above from the rest.

Gray Jay, the Whiskey Jack,

Full of boldness, and curse.

Are resourceful hoarders of the North.

And vocally diverse.

Often mistaken for a partridge,

Is the Ruffed Grouse.

They run on their toes in the winter,

Scurrying like a mouse.
Black-capped Chickadee,

Red-breasted Nuthatch,

The American Robin, all sing,

Bothering closed-in house cats.

The Western Tanager,

Known to be a tourist.

They come for few months only.

To raise new generations in the forest.

Then the Common Raven,

Known for being a thief.

Steals food from other flocks,

And people, with no grief.

Black-billed Magpies,

Stand out among the rest.

Their beautiful, aggressive demeanor.

Makes them one of Alberta’s best.

by Dawn Booth

The School Zone Bylaw

The school zone’s a place for bearing in mind that children are always about,
The slower the better is always the best, especially if there’s any doubt.
Of course you can drive like an idiot; a moron or dimwit or clown.
But don’t be surprised if you end up in jail for running some schoolchildren down.

Here is the how-do-you-do-it, for school zone rule driving remembering.
You have to proceed with care and restraint, no passing if you are dissembling.
The school zone’s speed is half sixty, the norm. Nearly nineteen if you prefer miles.
Anymore and the Mounties will have you, despite your vehement denials.

But wait! That low limit ain’t always, it’s half seven till just half past four.
And only when school is in session, so summer don’t count, that’s for sure.
(Oops, I meant doesn’t, not don’t – schools can still make me nervious).
I used to think I was all over that, but it seems I’m not yet impervious.

But back to the topic at hand, drive at thirty kilometres per hour,
Except Saturdays, Sundays and Holidays, plus alternative days that our
schools are not ever open, like Summer and sometimes on Fridays,
and Christmas and Spring Break and other time off – as my eyes are starting to glaze!

Yet despite how confusing it is, knowing when to calm down and go slower,
There’s an easier way to bear it in mind. And it’s something I’ll tell you right now… er?
“Weekends, Christmas, times off and vacations, Fridays mostly, days holi- and snow-.
Oh boy, it’s too hard to remember: if you drive past a school, just go slow”.

by Kevin Thornton

Not Sure I Could Explain

I know you’ve been gone a long while, in fact, several generations have passed since I sat on your knee. Sweat-rimmed engineer’s hat pushed back, exposing your farmer’s tan that ended at your eyebrows. Wisps of white hair, dandelion fluff, around your face. Sky eyes hiding behind that combine-sized nose.

Thought you might want to come for a visit, share your coal mining tales of explosions and second sights. I was too young the first time you told them.

If you come when the day draws back

you could have a wander around.

See the “improvements”. You’ll be happy to know they finally put the bridge over 9 Mile Creek. Yep…

a concrete testament to misplaced ambitions, four lanes wide. The creek ran dry when they dammed up above. Remember how Bess and Tilly pulled the farm truck through, in early spring flood? The snow-melt driving the water wild like two hundred head of spooked cattle

gone mad. We don’t get much snow now, lucky if we get an inch or two every few years.

You could tell Gramma that she wouldn’t be lonely anymore,

out there in the middle of the emptiness going stir-crazy for female conversation. Subdivisions border the edge of the fields; teeming cities of mushroom-cap roofs. She might miss the quiet.
I rebuilt the barn: it was time. Smaller though, the cows and pigs are gone. Bylaws state I can only keep chickens now, at least until 2010. I work in town; the farm’s been reclassified as hobby although I’m sure it never felt that way when you worked your way into stooped shoulders and a herniated disc.

There’s a four lane highway out front of the house. Take your life into your hands to cross: kinda like playing Russian Roulette.

Remember when you taught me how to ride my bike on the only pavement within miles?

Sometimes I see you, your easy gait, pushing the cows along, singing or cursing under your breath – I never knew which. You come in from the back fields at dusk when anything is possible.

by Cathy Yard

McMurray Trails

I walk the trails in Abasand,
With great joy and desire.

Over the forested hills,
I am always climbing higher.

In seasons of spring and summer and fall,
Of course in the winter its most of all.

I’ll walk the trails in Abasand,
Until the day I retire.

I walk the trails in Birchwood,
With frosted breath abundant.

Curving through the many paths,
Simply for the fun of it.

On bikes or sleds or skis or boots,
Wood buffalo activities taking root.

I’ll walk the trials in Birchwood,
Until I turn a hundred.

I walk the shores of the Athabasca,
Taking care not to fall in.
Casting a line looking for fish,
Natures beauty is callin’.

I walk in rain and Summer shine,
In Winter Spring or Fall time.
I’ll walk the shores of the Athabasca
Until that river runs dry. 

by James Hood

Giants of Mining

So now imagine a poet

finding himself in such environment.

After a while his focus shifts 

from “why” are these people doing 

whatever they are doing 

and he begins to turn his attention 

more to “how” are they doing, 

whatever they are doing.

He begins to notice 

new things about them,

things like working as if 

there is no tomorrow,

working as if 

their very life depends on it ,

working with a pride and dignity,

braving elements,

burning midnight oil,

tearing down old bridges 

and instead building a new one 

capable of carrying a  heavier load 

than any other bridge

that can be found spreading  

across the Athabascas  of the World.

Then he comes to a realization 

that how they approach their work 

is how he should approach his work.

After applying himself for a while 

in a such manner  those who know him 

give him a  nickname “The poems machine”.

After the steady outpour of poems

he comes to a new realization ,

perhaps even more important 

than the first realization 

that has set in motion the wheels 

of the poems machine.

He comes to a realization 

that in order for him to extract the verses 

he does not need object of his affection 

to be in front of him, 

for the crude from which 

his  verses are extracted from

is an under surface 

rather than above surface crude.

To prove this theory to be true 

he finds object of his affection 

at the furthest place on the planet 

from where he is ,

all the way on the other side of the world ,

and he builds the pipeline 

to deliver goods

to a random girl in India

by Mario M. Eric

Slender

A single whispered word escaped her slightly parted lips

Slender

Her body monstrous, legs with nasty scars

The monster that mocked her with a cold sneer whisper

“You are wider than any lady”

Bigger, Fatter! They howled with a sick glee.

Her soul descended into a nightmare

Her eyes were not subtle

As her shattered heart seemed to be.

To gaze upon her eyes was like drinking in the very elixir of life

But what did it matter?

“It’s a sin for wanting cake and to eat it too”.

She’d make herself ill

Because of the blind persistence which men and women impose on fellow creatures

Slender

Still, she shuddered at the thought that life might be long.

by Katerina Smid

Grade 9, Father Mercredi High School 

Worn, Dry & Dull

Gray faded walls

So worn, dry and dull

And the smell of strong coffee

That once used to dance

But now decides to stay limp

And tired as it hangs in the air

A bowl at the reception

So worn, dry and dull

Still has the stale toffee

With old wrappers and names

Given up on the feeling

Of being touched by hands
Workers at their desks

So worn, dry and dull

Routinely glance at tedious clocks

That mock them with the time

As they lean faces into fists

And free exasperated sighs

On occasion there is a yawn

Among the muted clicks of keys

The only thing that is bright

Is the glowing computer screen

Glared at by the same faces

So worn, dry and dull

by Aiman Naeem

Grade 11, Westwood Community High School

Where She Lies

Eyes round and wide

Brimming red with defeat

There on the street

She lies on her side

Coat covered with dust

She watches them pass

Busy affluent strangers

That eye with disgust

Warm tear on a cold cheek

Is possibly the only sign

That shows she is alive

Albeit worn and weak

Hunger is the greatest bane

Of her unvalued existence

It eats away the patience

As she hopes but in vain

She dreams of her demise

With every taken breathe

On the inhospitable stone

Of the street where she lies

by Aiman Naeem Grade 11, 
Westwood Community High School

Into the Forest

Society is a winged monsterThat maliciously perches uponFragile, insecure branchesWhich belong to abundant trees. It mocks their diversityAnd ridicules those who denyThe rather sharp whispersThat encourage conforming.   It snubs those whose crownsAppear to touch the sky aboveBut laughs at the ones that standMuch closer to the ground. The creature possessesSuch high expectations thatThose who let it make its nestTurn into rotting wood.

by Aiman Naeem

Grade 11, Westwood Community High School

Riverton Bay

There was an old river

Far from this house

Many people call it

The mysterious day

But we like to call it Riverton Bay

Because of the day when

Riverton Bay started to

Mysteriously  swiver away

We once went ice skating

On Riverton Bay

But that was before the day

When Riverton Bay swivered away

So back to business

With no delay and I’ll tell you

The story when Riverton Bay

Started to swiver away

Riverton Bay was sick

One day so he

Wivered and quivered

Itched and twitched

And so he

Wivered

Quivered

Itched and twitched

Until Riverton Bay

Swivered away so

To this day nobody talks

About Riverton Bay

And the day

When Riverton Bay

Mysteriously swivered away

by Jordin Kolmel

Grade 6, Good Shepherd School

Sisters

1, 2, 3, 4, 5 . . .

Then just count 1 more. . .  sister, I am one of six.

You better believe, it is quite the mix,

Of sisters!

One apartment, two bathrooms, four bedrooms, 6 girls. Mornings can be quite a whirl!

Ready for school, off to work,

Many sisters, not many perks!

Home just in time to for a quick treat.

Everything starts off, quite sweet.
Imagine supper all of us, sit down, to eat.

Quarrelling, fighting, all of us out of our seats.

Dessert, is cake,

That mom did bake,

Cut in too many small pieces, perhaps a mistake?

Who gets the biggest? Who gets the best?

We fight, we yell, we scream! Dad finishes the rest!

Now its time to tidy up, number 2 gets plates and cups, Number 1 gets floors and mops, I clean the walls, on top, Number 6 gets underneath my chair,  and never does hershare.

Just before we say goodnight,

Daddy tucks us in real tight!

11, 9, 8, 6, 4, and 1,

So many women in one apartment, so much FUN!

by Amer Gol Jiir

Grade 3, Father Turcotte School

My Dad Brings Home Strange Pets

My dad brings home strange pets…

In the past, he has brought home a tiger from Tibet.

The tiger loved rice,

And chased the mice.   

But he wasn’t very friend or nice.                         

               

Once I asked for a puppy

But he brought home a guppy

Who did not swim?

He died before we could name him Jim.

I remember as a child,

Some of the animals were very wild.

(My dad has been doing this since I was 8,                         

Sometimes we used some strange fish pets

as bait.)

Sometimes I wonder if he’s sane?

None of the animals seemed very tame.

  

I believe my dad became quite famous…

My mom on the other hand, didn’t like all the muss,

But made a home for ALL of US!

My dad brings home strange pets. . .  I wonder what is next?

by Rodney Musanje

Grade 3, Father Turcotte School

My Brother’s Snake

My brother and I went to zoo,

You can’t believe the all thing we could do.

The zoo was having a REALLY BIG sale,

My brother bought a snake, instead of a whale.

I was kind of glad,

Bathing with a whale would get my dad so mad. My mom said, “Take that icky snake away, before there’s an unfortunate attack.”

My brother said, “I’ll send him back”

But he actually put him into a sack.

First my brother put him under his bed,

But he got loose, so my brother hid him in the shed.

Then the snake got a big break,

And HE ESCAPED!

The hungry snake searched the yard for a mouse,

He ended up in our house.

That night, as I read my book on my bed.

Something was crawling near my head,

Then I heard a sharp, “HISSSSSSSS!”

That snake, tried to bite me, luckily, he missed!

I was astounded,

My brother, didn’t even get grounded!

Yet, we never got another PET.

by Lucas Skanes
Grade 3, Father Turcotte School 

Little Brother

I love my brother!

My cute, little brother.

He is really funny,

When he isn’t throwing, his bunny.

All his toys, he destroys,

He’s the kind of kid that can annoy!

When mom runs errands around town,

I’m in charge and he turns into a real clown.

He likes his ninjas, he loves his cars,

And when he throws them, they leave scars.

He usually takes most of the blame,

But sometimes I wish he’d show a little more shame.

It’s funny when he’s sad, I am usually he’s sad,

When he’s mad, I am mad.

But I like it better,

When he’s glad!

  

When we have guests, he’s always in a bad mood,

And they think he’s really rude.

But when he’s alone he’s a loving, caring,

and sometimes sharing

Little brother of mine!

                 

I love my brother!

My cute, little brother. 

by Jazmine Gervasio, 

Grade 3, Father Turcotte School

The Time of the Dinosaurs

Everyone should know,

Dinosaurs lived a long time ago,

Dinosaurs came in different sizes,

Big, bigger, biggest……

T-Rex is perhaps the trickiest.

Some dinosaurs think that eating flesh is a huge treat,

Other dinosaurs eat shrubs, tree twigs and like to dig.

Ankylosaurus, Argentinosaurus and Tyrannosaurus,

They all lived in a big, huge forest.

Hundreds of years later, a meteorite came,

But the dinosaurs were never to blame.

70 million years ago: things were CRAZY,

The future of the Earth was a bit hazy.

Today I like visiting World Renowned Museums of the past,

                     
I THINK DINOSAURS ARE A BLAST!  

by Oliver Nicolas Karbownik

Grade 3, Father Turcotte School

Horror

Ghosts, monsters and other things,

the screams they have will make your ears ring.

Don’t be afraid just say go away

and then they will leave you alone for the day.

Don’t cry just say goodbye

and then they will leave you for the rest of the night.

Why squirm when you could learn that they’re not as bad as you think.

The monsters have no home so they live under your bed,

they will make you scream and get into your head.

THE GHOSTS WILL WALK DOWN YOUR HALLS AND CREEPILY CRAWL

BUT THEY ARE JUST SOULS THAT CAN’T LEAVE, THEY HAVE TO STAY.

THEY CANNOT GO AWAY FROM THE HOME THAT IS CALLED YOURS.

by Madisyn Long

Grade 6, Walter & Gladys Hill Public School

Le renard | The Fox

Le renard chasse et la lune est là.

Le renard  mange et le soleil se réveille.

Quand il se repose le vent souffle sur son museau.

________________________________________

The fox hunts and the moon is there.

The Fox eats and the sun wakes up.

When he rests the wind blows on his muzzle.

par Kyliann Adie

Grade 3, École Boréal 

La vie | Life

Chaque jour un nouveau-né vient au monde et chaque jour malheureusement quelqu’un part.L’amour est immense pour chacun qui vit et chacun qui part pour un autre monde d’amour.J’aime ceux qui arrivent et ceux qui sont disparus.L’amour est un cadeau qui dure pour toujours, car il reste à jamais dans ton cœur…___________________________________________________________Every day a newborn comes into the world and everyday unfortunately someone leaves.Love is immense for each who lives and each who leaves for another worldof love.I love those that arrive and all those that disappear.Love is a gift that lasts forever, because it stays in your heart…

par Gabriella GauthierGrade 4, École Dickinsfield

Les bisous | Kisses

Les bisous que ma mère me donne sont les meilleurs du monde

Ils sont chauds et me consolent quand je suis triste

Je les adore

Ils sont dorés comme une fleur

Enchantée elle me les donne

L’amour que je n’ai jamais reçu

Je les adore

Ma mère est la personne qui me les donne quand je vais dormir, 

quand je danse, je chante; c’est les meilleurs 

___________________________________________________

The kisses that my mother gives me are the best in the world

they are warm and console me when I am sad

I adore them

they are golden like a flower

enchanted they give me love I have never received

I adore them

My mother is the person who gives he kisses when i go to sleep

when I dance I sing they are the best

par Hermela Woldemicheal

Grade 4, École Boréal 

Le gâteau de sorcière | The Witch’s Cake

Une sirène, une fée et une princesse

ont mangé un gâteau de sorcière.

Par la suite, les disputes arrivèrent.

La pluie, des éclairs, du vent et de la glace

sont venus noircir la place.

__________________________________

A mermaid, a fairy and a princess

ate the witch’s cake.

Then they began to fight.

The rain, the lightening, the wind and the ice

all came to darken the area.

par Rufine-Tiffaine Tompe

Grade 2, École Boréal