Friday, July 8, 2011

poor little reject

Here's a poem I wrote that has yet to find a home in a children's magazine. It's a poor little reject, but I still like it. And until a door opens to let it in, I thought I'd share it here. I hope my little reject makes you think of summer...hint hint.


by Samantha L. Hagar

Stuck between your fingers,

Glued to your feet and toes,

Itching the bend in your arms,

Scratching inside of your ears and nose.

It can be smaller than a crystal,

Or even tinier than the tip of a pen,

And if you mix it together with some water

You can recreate London, England’s Big Ben.

It can be coarse enough to polish wood,

Or as silky soft as Baker’s flour.

It’s found in glass, paint and concrete,

And it’s also used to tick down the hour.

It runs rampant in the Sahara,

Covers dunes in New Mexico,

And comes in many different colors,

Brown, black, pink, or white as winter snow.

I use it to build castles, mermaids and towers,

Or to bury my brother’s legs just within sea’s reach.

I love to jump and splash at the sparkling, foamy edge,

But mostly I love sand, and I find it at the beach.

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