Announcing the Hall of Fame Poets of the Year

Hi everyone,

Voting was extremely light for the second annual Hall of Fame Poets of the Year. We attracted a lot of readers so maybe that’s the main thing. A tie gives us two winning adult poets. Congratulations to Ken Slesarik from Prioria, Arizona for his poem, “Halley’s Comet,” and to Joy Acey of Phoenix for “The View from the Iron.”

Only one vote was cast in each of the two young poet divisions. But fair is fair and a win is a win. Therefore, congratulations to NowEl Willhight, from Maumee Valley Country Day in Toledo, Ohio for his poem, “Here Comes the Sun.” NowEl wins in the grades 3-7 category. In the grades 8 – 12 group, our winning poet is Jason Stiles from Crescent City, Florida for his poem, “Water.”

We have now concluded the last 12-month cycle. From now on, there will be no vote at the end of the month and no need for 12-month cycles. We’ll simply go on enjoying the friendly chat and challenge of Word of the Month Poetry Challenge. I hope to see all my old friends and gain many new ones as we go.

Thanks again, everyone.


We’re voting for the Hall of Fame Poet of the Year

Hi everyone,

We have dispensed with the month-end selection of winning poets. However, we still have one item of business to complete from this last 12-month cycle, and that’s to vote our choice for Hall of Fame Poet of the Year.

Below I’ve posted a ballot box with each month’s winning Hall of Fame Poet listed. In case of a tie, I’ve posted both. Below that, I’ve posted each poem that won. Now it’s our pleasure to reread those winning poems and select the poet of our choice.

I’ve also posted a ballot box for the monthly winners among our young poets. So have at it and enjoy their poems too!

2011 Winning Poems, Adults

Passing Notes by Bridget Magee

I got in big trouble in class
For all the notes that I passed.
To the “Time-Out” chair I was sent
To sit and think and then repent.

So I sat and I thought,
But repent I did not.
For my notes were for Mr. Brown
To tell him his fly was down.

©2011, Bridget Magee


View from the Iron by Joy Acey
Spraying the starch, pressing the shirt,
Hot against the ironing board,
Made her give thought to her father,
Who hated the process,
Feared the watching, he kept trying
To make it go away.
He took his shirts to the laundry,
Where the crumpled piles, smelling of him,
Returned paper crisp fresh
On hangers wrapped in plastic.
The oldest boy, second of seven,
He figured this a treat
He could afford for himself.
The first, a girl,
Not quite right in the head.
It had fallen to him
To protect her from loose tongues
When they went to town,
He held her hand, helped her and the young ones
Buy penny candy at the general store.
One day while Mama ironed, Sister teased
And he gave chase around the pressing board.
She ducked to get away.
The board collapsed like their family.
The hot iron fell, hit Sister in the head.
The smell of burning flesh was drowned by her screams.
They took Sister away, he never saw her again.
But he had to mind the children on Sunday afternoons
When Mother went to visit.
The weight of her memory kept him from enjoying
The view from the iron.

Sour Luck by Cory Corrado
blushing-red pearls dangle
from fertile boughs
appraisers of every feather wing to the feast
I’m out of luck!
pits dangle, frustratingly bare
sated birds scatter, never twittering a care
my-once-cherry-mood has turned
Such A Good Puppy, by Susan Carmichael
Basking in the summer sun
sated by the kill
how cunning are my hunting skills
to snare the espadrille
Tentacles of ribbon
flow from top the beast
teasing me to take a taste
of rayon cottons feast
Braided jute and turquoise canvas
oblivious to the queue
waiting for this so full predator
to finish off the shoe
This day of wild foraging
will find me in a crate…
but Sunday’s news sounds savory
just one more day to wait!


It’s Sneaky – Be Aware, by Jackie Huppenthal
I’m going crazy
out of my mind
that creepy little ivy
was the poisonous kind
I didn’t even know
that’s how this plant works
days later rash shows
it itches, it hurts
I try not to scratch
poor body’s rubbed red
each bump, swollen patch
keeps growing; it spreads
It’s vicious and mean
but I restrain; stay strong
apply calamine cream…
Still, recovery takes long
Well, I did learn a lesson,
how to ID and give care –
So now I promise you skin
I’ll watch out. I’ll beware!

Stay Out! by Mary Nida Smith
You are in my space.
My private space!
A space where
I feel happy.
Happy to enjoy
the space around me
without anyone
squeezing in on me
or conforming me
to their ways.
A space where
the wind blows
against my skin.
Where I can look up
watch the clouds
rush across the sky.
Birds fly playfully
Untouched wild flowers
grow in a natural state.
I want my space
unruffled and uplifting
to be a free thinker
to dream, be still
while lost in space.
In my space
my own
private space.
© By Mary Nida Smith
Halley’s Comet by Ken Slesarik
I could be curt and rather rude,
some say I had an attitude
for back in nineteen eighty-six
to Halley’s Comet I said this;
“Your show is such a boorish scam,
with freak facade so glib, not glam.
Then there’s your queer, lackluster tail,
it’s dreary, dull and downright pale.”
She growled, giving “the evil eye,”
and spoke to me while soaring by.
With vim and vigor, vehemently,
from outer space she said to me;
“Other comets may be brighter,
their gassy tails a little lighter,
but I can’t hack you talkin’ smack,
so boy you better watch your back.”
Today, I view it as a crisis
how that mass of dust and ices
can terrorize me all these years,
conjuring up my darkest fears.
So now in twenty sixty-one,
illuminated by the sun,
she’ll be back to power dive
and end my life at ninety-five.
Copyright 2011
All Rights Reserved
Sandpiper by julie Krantz
He scurries
to the water’s
edge on skinny
piper feet.
He roots
around the frothy
sand with spiky
piper beak.
He noodles in
the silky surf
for tiny clams
and eggs—
then scampers from
the rising sea
OMG! by Gay Fawcett
The first horse I saw
Took me by surprise
My daddy was wrong.
“This horse cannot fly!”
“Horse Feathers!” he’d say
Each time he was mad.
“This horse has no wings,”
I said to my dad.
“Horse feathers,” he said,
“Is a nice way to cuss.”
I planned to say it
When I got old enough.
The first time I took
Our Lord God’s name in vain
Dad took out the soap.
“It’s just not the same.”
If daddy had heard
What that V.P. gal said!
“WTF” she blogged
“Say horse feathers!” instead!

A Feather Drifting My Way, by Janet Kay Gallagher
Feathers shaking out of my pillow.
Did they drift past that big willow?
Or get caught in the leaves
Of those big trees?
Feathers come in many shapes and sizes.
Beautiful colors, several considered real prizes.
Soft and fluffy, hard and strong.
Protecting birds, allowing them to fly along.
Now shake and shake the bed tick.
Without losing more feathers, that’s the trick.
A feather pillow for my head.
A feather matress for my bed.
Life is a feather drifting my way
As I fall asleep on this joyous day.

Fathom, by Liz Korba
More than half of me is water
Drips and drops of H2O
More than half of me is water
I am rain, sleet, hail and snow
There’s a piece of me that’s ocean
I’m a little raging sea
And a bit of stream and river
Puddle, pond, a lake – that’s me!
More than half of me is something
That refuses to be still
I may wear down rocks, great mountains
Make a valley from a hill
There are times when I am able
To help living things to grow
And it’s true that I can take a life
Flash flood, an undertow
In great clouds you’ll find me floating
Though at times I’m underground
There are days when I erupt, make noise
Or not a single sound
Since so much of me is water
This explains a lot of me
But not all of me is water
There’s a part that’s mystery!

Weather Riddle, by Jane Heitman Healy
like a lion defending its den
like a trainload of quartzite
like a race car lapping the track
like heavy metal music
like a mob of football maniacs
like a migraine behind the eyes
like eternity—
What am I?
The persistent prairie wind.
Climate Change in Faeryland, by Steven Withrow
All the trolls from the Kingdom of Klaarjj
Floated off on a large wooden barge
In search of high ground where the Flood
Had not drowned every field into mud,
And the rains of decay would not pelt
Night and day, and the sun would not melt,
As they’d heard it had done, sparking fires
In the realm of Prince Caspian’s Spires.
And running aground on the Islet of Ice,
Which once had been home to a nation of mice,
The Klaarjjian trolls stomped their furious feet,
For in this cold clime…they found nothing to eat.
In a sea without fish, flora, kraken, or whale
Rode a bright tale of hope on a gossiping gale,
And the trolls who were frostbit and hungry and sad
Repeated these words till they nearly went mad:
You will sail many leagues before morning,
You will cross many miles after dawn,
But you all will arrive without warning,
In a place where fine summer lives on.
And the troll-children sang in their Klaarjjian brogue
About Camelot, Oz, Shangri-La, Tír na nÓg,
And the echoes of Neverland, Narnia rose
Through the cloud-crowded skies, over empty ice floes.
All the trolls from the Kingdom of Klaarjj
Floating still on a large wooden barge,
And they follow the song of the breezing
That keeps their poor troll-paws from freezing,
That fixes their eyes on a haven that seems
As far as the stars and as close as their dreams…
And even in your world—have the rains started falling?—
It’s the voice of imaginings lost you hear calling.

©2010 by Steven Withrow. All rights reserved.


To Teach or Not to Teach the Classics, by Lisa Martino
Should I delve blindness to the word of old
And open their minds anew
Should I continue on the course ahead
And connect them, unscathed newborn
Or inspire, muse, arouse sleeping wit
Entice all, magnetic lure
Do I assist them, relate, painless thought
With modern themes, common words
It’s an enigma, a challenge to me
Ancient deliberation
Or conspicuously apparent sound
This Change, Wishing it Away, by Silindile Ntuli
I’ve seen the devil’s eyes,
Filled with hatred and hungry for torment.
I looked into those eyes; I was just a little girl.
Each touch, no each yank left a bruise on my skin,
Each drag made me scream out loud,
But my heart was suffering the most,
In a fog I could not understand.
A slap across my face followed by harsh words,
The smell of his body suffocated me,
That alone brought him to a smile.
I looked in the eyes of hatred,
Wondering what my crime was.
Till I found myself facing a knife,
I was not even five.
This sudden change was new to me,
But I knew it was evil at its best.
Send me down my angel,
Fling him down, throw him down.
I need help, because my soul is dying.
They told me about angels,
I need mine by my side.
Just a few minutes ago,
I was playing with my teddy.
Now my head is pinned to the dirty ground,
I am only a little girl.
Minutes later I’m sleeping on the ground,
Tightly holding my teddy.
My clothes are dirty from the dragging,
My body is in pain,
The kind I never knew existed.
My soul is filled with hatred,
And burning with anger.
Traumatized little girl,
Heart shattered into pieces.
I cry myself to sleep on the floor,
Clutching my brown bear.

2011 Winning Poems, Young Poets


Unbroken, by Ishani Gupta, grade 5

I’m two,
sitting on your lap
looking into your old eyes
You hold out your pinky
I peer at it…
“Promise me,”
You say,
“That you will
stay with me forever.”
I nodded my two-year-old head
And hold out mine.
I’m five
Packing my bags
With you,
We seal boxes
Tears stream from your eyes
As we load them into the car
I get in,
But you don’t.
You wipe a tear
I lean out
and whisper,
“I will always be with you,
In there.”
I say
while pointing to your heart
You nod you 63-year-old head
and wave you hand
as the door shuts.
I’m seven,
Pushing past the hospital curtains
to find you,
Lying there.
I run to the side of your bed,
and grab your hand,
and repeat our promise.
We nod our heads
and look into each others eyes
I never thought that,
I would see you like this.
I sit there
Letting tears,
Drip from my eyes
until the nurse escorts me out.
Back then, I didn’t know
that we would
meet again.
But now,
Every time
I gaze at the stars
I see your constellation,
Smiling down at me,
Pointing to your heart.
And there it is…
Our promise.
Teacher-Nan Valuck
Toledo, OH

A Visit Inside by Evan D. Abdoo, grade 6
That crooked dorsal fin
Gliding throughout the night
I hope I wont feel
His un meaningful bite.
The eyes of a devil
Stare blankly at my face
Like buttons on a doll
Or small black holes in space.
The jaw of a monster
His teeth are pearly white
I believe I can see
What he ate last night.
It smells rotten in here,
And I can’t see a thing,
But, I do feel feathers…
Is that a pelican wing?

Maumee Valley Country Day School
Toledo, Ohio
teacher: Jana Smith
Woodpecker, by Peter Meyer, grade 6
A woodpecker flies by me
Only an inch of space
Between us
He has a bright red head
White stomach and black wings
I lose sight of him as he dashes between tall trees
From branch to branch, vine to vine
Looking for some bugs to eat
Making leaves tumble
Back and forth all the way to the ground
Vines swing like they want to be rid of him
He stops one last time
Before flying away.
Maumee Valley Country Day School
Toledo, Ohio
Teacher: Jana Smith

Here Comes the Sun by KnowEl Willhight
I walk out of the cathedral
The warm summer sun settling on my shoulders.
I walk down the steps slowly,
I look at the tree that she loves so much,
That she loved so much.
Grandma had said “I remember the day she died,”
She always told me that she loved that tree,
And on the day her grandma died, she looked at it.
And she swore she saw her grandma go right on up to heaven.
She taught me and
She spoke of where she was going
She spoke of a place where people were always happy,
A place where the angels sing of
A place of light.
A place of pure light.
So, right now
I look at the tree,
With its roots reaching out towards me.
And I think of one thing,
And one thing only.
Her all time favorite song-
“Here Comes the Sun.”
“Here comes the sun, here comes the sun, and it’s alright”
I sing softly as I make my way down the steps.
I sit on the bottom step, and I look at the tree,
With its roots reaching out towards me
and it
Reaching up towards the sky.
Towards heaven.
And I say,
“It’s alright.”
Like I’m giving her permission
To go
To heaven.
And after I say that,
After I say those words,
I swear— just like grandma said
That I saw my grandma going right up to heaven.
Maumee Valley Country Day School
Toledo, Ohio
Teacher: Jana Smith

Spring by Ashley Swartz, grade 10
The root of a tree
deeply filled with limbs of spring
weather makes me sing.
Crescent City Jr /Sr High School
Crescent City, FL
Teacher: Lisa Martino

As I lay by Samina Hejeebu, Grade 6
The perfect green leaves
Hang everywhere.
The sun beams down on me,
giving me a sun burn.
Grass pricks my back.
Birds chirping songs.
Clouds snowy white,
Light, and fluffy
Like cotton candy.
I lay looking at this
For hours.
I finally see it,
A giant bird,
Gracefully flying through the sky.
Like it takes no effort.
A feather falls.
At first it shoots down to earth,
But then it slowly falls,
Swaying to the sides,
Back and forth.
Like it has nowhere to go.
Finally it reaches the prickly grass.
It falls gently on my chest.
Like it’s meant to be.
I sit up trying not to move it,
and look at the design.
It’s different shades of blue,
All blended together,
With the little hairs all going the same way.
It looks like something that
Can’t exist in a world like this.
I’ve never seen something this delicate.
I don’t touch it,
because I’m afraid I will break it.
But it’s so pretty.
I can’t just leave it there,
It’s part of the bird,
Part of the reason why it can fly.
What would happen if everyone
Took one from every bird they see.
We would have no more.
So I left it,
Even though it was so intricate,
So delicate,
that it would break with one touch,
It was the prettiest thing in the world.
Maumee Valley Country Day School
Toledo, Ohio


The Journey, by Courtney Clawson, grade 6
Trudge, trudge.
As I plod along, each step seems like an eternity.
My head aches.
My mouth is dry.
I am parched.
Suddenly, like a mirage in the desert, it appears out of nowhere.
I run now, pushing through the crowds, ignoring the
infuriated swarm of people.
I reach my destination.
The cold water runs down my throat with a tingling
I take another drink, this time long…
and refreshing.
The water soothes my aching head.
I peer behind my shoulder at the aggravated mob of people,
realizing I just pushed through them to get to the beginning of the line.
And I prepare myself for the journey back…
with another sip.

Maumee Valley Country Day
Toledo, OH
teacher: Jana Smith
Water, by Jason Stiles, grade 10
So gentle
So graceful
So powerful
So strong
So destructive
So devastating
Destroys what it

Crescent City Jr Sr High School
Crescent City, Florida
Teacher: Mrs. L. Martino

Winter’s Crossing, by P. Andrew Pipatjarasgit, grade 6
The howl of the wind
Crosses through the forest
Sweeps the snow
and shakes the barren tree
The white blanket of snow
Covers the land into milkshakes
Branches creak and crack
with certainty they’ll break
The howl of the wind
twirls the sleet around
Ice deep in a nullah
Halts the water dead
The roughest of the elements
Cruel and brutal winter
Stormy weather arrives
and annihilates the sycamores
The darkness of the night
Blindly finding its way to the ground
With the gloom not heard in the day
and chilling of the air
The brightness of day
chops the night in half
A nanometre of light
Daylight will come
The whiteness of the snow
It shines on your eyes
Very quiet
The pitter and the patter
The day passes by and
the snow pounds down
and keeps falling
On the seemingly lifeless world
And evening comes
To fall on us once more
And back to the darkness
To the howl of the wind
Maumee Valley Country Day
Toledo, OH
teacher: Jana Smith
Sunset Thanks, by Katie Scott, grade 9
As the sun goes down and the winds whistle in my hair,
I remember them days when I always say Thanks Lord.
My mother always say, you are right,
all the pain I have and the suffering.
I Thank the Lord for all he made right for us
Thanks is a wonderful word. Thanks is joy and happiness
You can just feel the warmness and joyness
as your heart beat faster and faster
Thanks I say Thanks for the Sunset of Life
Crescent City Jr/ Sr High School
Crescent City, Florida
Teacher: Mrs. Lisa Martino


Without a Word, by Ella Foster, grade 5
Cries of laughter.
Joy was spread throughout the church.
Everyone was talking in hushed voices,
Yet all the sounds combing in my little head sounded as if
Every word a new little firework
Sent out on its journey through the sky.
She walks in everyone goes silent,
Her beautiful white gown flouncing as she appears,
So gracefully,
So silently,
So gently,
She takes a step forward,
My heart’s racing, another step
She walks down the aisle,
Her head raised as if she wasn’t afraid.
Maybe she wasn’t but I was.
As she takes another step
Her train floats over the petals I had softly strewn.
As she takes her last steps
She looks down at me and smiles.
Without a word she calms my heart.

Maumee Valley Country Day
Toledo, OH
Teacher: Nanette Valuck
Thankful, by La’ Joi Word, grade 10
Everyday I wake
I give thanks
To see the sun rise
I give thanks
For a family that is wise
I give thanks
Life, health, and strength
Nothing but thanks
To the one up above

Crescent City Jr Sr High School
Crescent City, FL
Teacher: Lisa Martino

Cries of laughter.
Joy was spread throughout the church.
Everyone was talking in hushed voices,
Yet all the sounds combing in my little head sounded as if
Every word a new little firework
Sent out on its journey through the sky.
She walks in everyone goes silent,
Her beautiful white gown flouncing as she appears,
So gracefully,
So silently,
So gently,
She takes a step forward,
My heart’s racing, another step
She walks down the aisle,
Her head raised as if she wasn’t afraid.
Maybe she wasn’t but I was.
As she takes another step
Her train floats over the petals I had softly strewn.
As she takes her last steps
She looks down at me and smiles.
Without a word she calms my heart.
Crescent City Jr /Sr High School
Crescent City, FL
Teacher: Lisa Martino
Everyday I wake
I give thanks
To see the sun rise
I give thanks
For a family that is wise
I give thanks
Life, health, and strength
Nothing but thanks
To the one up above
Four Little Rain Boots, by Emily Rigby, 5th grade
A drifting leaf,
Mud sloshing,
Raindrop after raindrop,
Four little feet running out of a barn,
One little yellow boot on each,
Two little children.
Oh, how they run,
If only they knew,
How lucky they are.
Curly red hair,
Hiding the giggly face behind it.
If only they were aware of how much others envy them.
For, they still carry their innocence.
These happy expressions will stay happy for a while.
These two minds hold no knowledge of,
Laughter floating around the rustic red barn remains loud.
And they begin to
near the field.
Their lives are still sugarcoated.
And they should stay that way.
But change is imminent.
There’s no way around it.
Maumee Valley Country Day
Toledo, OH
teacher: Jana Smith

March poetry winners, April Word of the Month, and Kelly Milner Halls tomorrow

Hi everyone,My thanks to Kathy Temean for pitching in to help announce our Hall of Fame Poets for March. I’m off on my jaunt but Kathy has read the polls and is making today’s announcement of our winners. Thanks, Kathy!As for Word of the Month Poet winners, I asked the judges for a quick turnaround before I left so I can announce them today too.


Adult:  Julie Krantz for Sandpiper

Grades 3-7:  KnowEl Willhight for Here Comes the Sun 

Grades 8-12:  Ashley Swartz for Spring 


Adult: Julie Krantz, North Carolina, for Sandpiper
Grades 3-7: Caleb Kynard, Ohio, for Rain
Grades 8-12: Ashley Swartz, Florida, for Spring

My thanks as always to everyone who participated in the month’s one-word challenge. Remember, we approach this challenge as a writing exercise to keep our imaginations fresh and get in some regular practice at writing poems. It’s all fun and our participants enjoy encouragement and supporting one another. Positive comments are always welcome whether you have shared a poem of the month or not.


April marks our 19th Word of the Month. How many of the previous 18 words have inspired you to write a poem? Some of you will soon have enough for a book! Our word for April is SPACE. I hope you have fun with it.


And now for still more good news! My Featured Guest this week is Kelly Milner Halls, a thoroughly entertaining author whose free spirit and love of children beam through everything she says or does. Here’s a brief bio and book list. Tomorrow you will meet her “in person.”

Kelly Milner Halls is an award winning nonfiction author for kids, specializing in quirky topics of special appeal to reluctant readers. Her titles include Dinosaur Mummies, Albino Animals, Wild Dogs, Tales of the Cryptids, Dinosaur Travel Guide, Mystery of the Mummy Kids, Dinosaur Parade, Wild Horses and Saving the Baghad Zoo.

In the fall of 2011, her new book In Search of Sasquatch will be available. Alien Investigation, Hatchlings: A Lifesize Look at Baby Dinosaurs and her first fiction project, Girl Meets Boys will be published in the fall of 2012. Halls makes her home in Spokane, Washington with two daughters, one dog, too many cats and a four foot rock iguana named Gigantor. When she’s not writing or visiting elementary and middle schools across the nation, she’s working as her friend, YA novelist Chris Crutcher’s personal assistant and occasional cat sitter.

PARTIAL BIBLIOGRAPHY:Dinosaur Mummies (2003, Darby Creek Publishing)
Albino Animals (2004, Darby Creek Publishing)
Wild Dogs (2005, Darby Creek Publishing)
Tales of the Cryptids (2006, Darby Creek Publishing)
Random House Dinosaur Travel Guide (2006, Random House)
Mysteries of the Mummy Kids (2007, Darby Creek Publishing)
Wild Horses (2008, Darby Creek Publishing)
Dinosaur Parade (2008, Lark/Sterling)
Saving the Baghdad Zoo (2010, HarperCollins/Greenwillow)
In Search of Sasquatch (2011, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt)
Alien Investigation (2012, Millbrook)
Hatchlings: A Life Size Look at Baby Dinosaurs (2012, Running Press)David

January poets and the word of the month for February

Hi everyone,

Thanks again to all who participated in Word of the Month Poetry Challenge in January. WATER certainly inspired our poets!

Our judges have selected the following for Word of the Month Poets.

Adult Poet: Steven Withrow for Pilot Fish

Adult Poet 1st runner-up: Jane Heitman Healy for The Teacher

Adult Poet 2nd runner-up: Julie Krantz for Snowflakes

Young Poet, grades 3-7: Taylor McGowan for Untitled

Young Poet runner-up, grades 3-7: Iain Todd for You Were

Young Poet, grades 8-12: Jason Stiles for Water

Voters selected the following for January Hall of Fame Poets.

Adult Poet: Steven Withrow for Pilot Fish and Liz Korba for Fathom. Since Steven has already placed 1st (in a tie last month with Jane Heitman Healy) during this 12-month period, Liz becomes the January Hall of Fame Poet.

Young Poet, grades 3-7: Zack Safadi received the most votes for This is Just to Say. Since Zack has already won in this category during this 12-month period, runner-up Courtney Clawson becomes our January Hall of Fame winner for The Journey.

Young Poet, grades 8-12: Jason Stiles for Water

Young Poet runner-up, grades 8-12: Clarence Williams, III for Water


And now for the word for February.


December winners and January’s word of the month

Thanks to everyone who helped make December another successful month for Word of the Month Poetry Challenge. The votes are in and here are the results.

First our Word of the Month Poets for December. Our judges selected the following poets to recognize for their work.


1st place goes to Gay Fawcett (Florida) for her poem, “His Face.”

Runner-up goes to Lisa Martino (Florida) for her poem, “Such a brittle thing you are.”


Winning poet is P. Andrew Pipatjarasgit (Grade 6, Maumee Valley Country Day, Toledo, OH, Teacher: Jana Smith) for his poem, “Winter’s Crossing.”

Runner-up goes to Kaartikeya Raj Gupta (Grade 6, Maumee Valley Country Day, Toledo, OH, Teacher: Jana Smith


Winner is Kelsey LeMasters (Grade 9 – Crescent City Jr Sr High School, Crescent City, Florida, Teacher: Mrs. Lisa Martino) for the poem, “Love/Summer.”

Runner-up is Roshod Addison (Grade 9 – Crescent City Jr Sr High School, Crescent City, Florida, Teacher: Mrs. Lisa Martino) for his poem, “Spring.

The following poets were selected by those who visited the site and cast their ballots.


We have a tie for 1st place between Steven Withrow (Rhode Island) for his poem, “Climate Change in Faeryland” andJane Heitman Healy (South Dakota) for her poem, “Weather Riddle.”

We also have a tie for runner-up between Liz Korba (New Jersey) with her poem, “Rain Coming” and Mary Nida Smith (Arkansas) with her poem, “Weather Mishap.”

Lisa Martino received the most votes but she was our winner last month and cannot win again during this 12-month period.


Our winner is P. Andrew Pipatjarasgit who was also selected for 1st place by the judges for the Word of the Month category, making him a double winner this month. Congratulations, P. Andrew.

We have a tied for runner-up between Rachel Heinrichs (Grade 5, Glen Acres Elementary, West Chester, Pennsylvania) for her poem, “Weather” and Kaartikeya Raj Gupta


Our winner is Katie Scott (9th grade – Crescent City Jr Sr High School, Crescent City, Florida, Teacher: Mrs. Lisa Martino0 for her poem, “Sunset Thanks.”

Runner-up is Kelsey LeMasters.

Congratulations to all of our winners for December and my gratitude to everyone who shared their work during our monthly exercise of creating poems inspired by one word. We had a good month.

Are you ready for January’s word? It is WATER. Good luck!