THE. SENTENCE. GUY.

HI.
I'M.
THE.
SENTENCE.
GUY.
AND.
SENTENCES.
ARE.
WHAT.
I.
DO.

THIS.
SILLY.
WRITER.
CAPS.
LOCKED.
EVERY.
WORD.
ALONG.
WITH.
A.
PERIOD.
TOO.


Try reading this like a poem. If you look at it, it actually rhymes! Do and Too are the rhyming words.

Favorite Seasons By Rachel

There cannot be  favorite seasons,
And I'm here to tell you why
I could prove it with some reasons
I have a huge supply.

Spring is blooming flowers
buds squished flat on the ground
Lots of warm rain showers,
in wich I'll play around.

But it seems too long of a wait
for summer to come in full swing
and I begin to hate
the beautiful season of spring.

Once summer is here,
and I'm out of school
 I jump in the clear,
cold swimming pool .                          

But summer is hot
the sun hurts my skin
and I begin to not
like the season I'm in.

Fall is so nice,
in a color kind of  way                  
they give the season a spice
red, orange, brown leaves, blow astray.

But the season of  school  
may not be a good choice
only a fool
likes to hear the teacher's voice.

Winter means snow snowing
falling silently all day long
you hear the blizzard growing
singing it's icy song.

But you miss the the heat of the glaring sun
the bird's high pitched song,
But you soon realize you can have some wintery fun
though each day isn't very long.

There cannot be favorite seasons
and think I've explained why
I had proven it with some reasons
I had no shortage in supply.                                                                                                        

Haikus

I have decided 

To write only in haikus.

It is a challenge!

Poem Sites

If you would like to see some Robert Frost poems, visit this site:

Poet: Robert Frost - All poems of Robert Frost

but this site is also really cool because you can search any poem or poet so here is the site itself:

PoemHunter.Com - Thousands of poems and poets. Poetry Search Engine

A poem by good ole Robert Frost

A Considerable Speck

(Microscopic)

A speck that would have been beneath my sight
On any but a paper sheet so white
Set off across what I had written there.
And I had idly poised my pen in air
To stop it with a period of ink
When something strange about it made me think,
This was no dust speck by my breathing blown,
But unmistakably a living mite
With inclinations it could call its own.
It paused as with suspicion of my pen,
And then came racing wildly on again
To where my manuscript was not yet dry;
Then paused again and either drank or smelt--
With loathing, for again it turned to fly.
Plainly with an intelligence I dealt.
It seemed too tiny to have room for feet,
Yet must have had a set of them complete
To express how much it didn't want to die.
It ran with terror and with cunning crept.
It faltered: I could see it hesitate;
Then in the middle of the open sheet
Cower down in desperation to accept
Whatever I accorded it of fate.
I have none of the tenderer-than-thou
Collectivistic regimenting love
With which the modern world is being swept.
But this poor microscopic item now!
Since it was nothing I knew evil of
I let it lie there till I hope it slept.

I have a mind myself and recognize
Mind when I meet with it in any guise
No one can know how glad I am to find
On any sheet the least display of mind. 

Robert Frost

I just adore Kenn Nesbitt!!!!

Poetry for Kids by Kenn Nesbitt

My Dog Likes to Disco My doggy likes to disco dance. He boogies every night. He dances in his doghouse till the early morning light. The other dogs come running when they hear my doggy swing. A few will play their instruments. The others dance and sing. They pair off with their partners as their tails begin to wag. They love to do the bunny hop, the fox trot and the shag. You'll see the doghouse rockin' as a hundred dogs or more all trip the light fantastic on the doghouse disco floor. At last, at dawn, they exit in the early morning breeze, and stop to sniff the fire hydrants, bushes, lawns and trees. I just don't understand it for although it looks like fun. I can't see how they fit inside that doghouse built for one.   --Kenn Nesbitt Kenn Nesbitt's Poetry for Kids

Copyright © 2004 Kenn Nesbitt. All Rights Reserved.