Tag Archives: Poetry

Through the Fields


She walks through the fields,
The wind blowing through her dark hair.
As she drifts, she sails on the wind.

With pale arms outstretched, she sings.
Her songs are of new love,
Intertwined hearts, and lovely days.

Bare feet waltz through the grass,
Dancing with the breeze
That carries aromas of daisies and roses.

Flowers braided in her hair,
Freckles turned up to the sun,
She leaps and twirls through her peaceful haven.

She cries, she laughs, she ponders.
She basks in the sun,
Which is her constant friend.

She is the Wanderer,
The Queen of Nature,
The Dancer.

She is the Singer.
She sings in the refreshing rain,
And she sings under the rays of her friend.

And through all, she dances,
Skipping softly around
Her sea of weeds.

Her true home,
Her make-believe garden,
Her blissful sanctuary.

This poem is posted on TeenInk over here. (Please, please, PLEASE rate it!)


Not Giving Up

**WARNING:** This is the most clichéd (and repetitive [it was in the middle of the night when I made it. Give me a break]) poem you will ever read (or I will ever write—hopefully). I wrote it a few nights ago after falling asleep, waking up, and realizing that somehow, someday, all those words I’ve written and kept hidden in Microsoft Word documents will have a purpose.

Like the flowers,
I will bloom.
Like the sun,
I will burn.
Like the stars,
I will shine.
Like the trees,
I will grow.
Like the leaves,
I will dance.
Like the wind,
I will push
Those who need
the nudge
Toward the light
of my Savior.
Like a baby bird,
I will fly.
And then fall.
But I will land
On a branch,
And keep trying.
I’m not giving up.


He Saves us All

This is a poem I wrote earlier this month. Posted at Teenink.com over here.

As the bright moon sets slowly
Beyond the far off mountains,
A star shines brightly.
Snowflakes gently swirl,
Trees sway in the wind,
And the angels sing.

A royal Prince, born to die,
Is welcomed by the angels
Who sing their praises.
Shepherds humbly bow
Before their mighty King.
Oh, beautiful night!

Bethlehem, oh little town,
Follow the star up above,
And find you new King.
He’s sleeping soundly,
Laying in a manger,
Dreaming of His task.

A hard and difficult life
Of assisting His Father
Save this broken world.
Dying for our sins,
To rise after three days,
From the depths of hell.

Praise the mighty King of kings!
He’s saved us from Satan’s wrath.
He has persevered.
Oh, wonderful day!
Praise Him in everything,
For He saves us all.

Merry Christmas!


I found a poem about flowers that I wrote around the same time as this one. I’m currently re-making it so I can have a version that doesn’t seem so… well, badly written (my writing skills back then were awful. Not that they’re too much better now ;p). So here’s what I’ve got so far:



The rose says I’m sorry,
And many other things.
Sometimes they’re sharp,
But sometimes they’re soft.


The rose says I’m sorry,
I love you,
And many other things.
The thorns are sharp,
The petals soft.
Overall, it is beautiful.

And the other three verses (lily, tulip, and sunflower) need to be changed. Completely. But I will never get rid of the original poem, because it’s beautiful in a childish sense. So I’m keeping it, forever.

Hope you liked it! : )



This is a poem I wrote awhile back, when I did ballet. I’m not exactly sure when I wrote it, but I *think* I was in seventh grade. I remember wanting to write a poem about ballet dancers, but I had no idea what to write about. Then, eventually, it came to me: dancers can do some pretty amazing (and wacky) things. One of those things (spotting) is described in my poem.


The music starts.
The dancers leap,
Like tigers over a fence.
The teachers correct,
The dancers do,
Like lovely dancers should.
They twirl and they spin,
Yet never get dizzy,
Like little children do.
For you see, boys and girls,
Dancers are little magicians.