Text Box: Landon Olsen
Grade 5
American Preparatory Academy, Draper
Jennifer Powell, Teacher
Third Place, Division B
 
Groundhog Day
 
Good morning, Mister Groundhog.
Where have you been so long?
Another year again passed by,
the seasons rolled along.
 
Last winter you came out to see
if spring would show up soon,
would blossoms on the treetops come
if no shadow shone at noon?
 
The world again looks to see,
your prediction we await.
Will spring arrive on early wings
or will winter make us wait?
 
The suspense is so exciting,
I think you're having fun,
So come out of your hole soon please,
It's time to greet the sun!

 
Text Box: Landon Olsen
Grade 5
American Preparatory Academy, Draper
Jennifer Powell, Teacher
Third Place, Division B
 
Groundhog Day
 
Good morning, Mister Groundhog.
Where have you been so long?
Another year again passed by,
the seasons rolled along.
 
Last winter you came out to see
if spring would show up soon,
would blossoms on the treetops come
if no shadow shone at noon?
 
The world again looks to see,
your prediction we await.
Will spring arrive on early wings
or will winter make us wait?
 
The suspense is so exciting,
I think you're having fun,
So come out of your hole soon please,
It's time to greet the sun!

 

 

 

Text Box: Casey Wahl
Grade 8
Meridian School, Provo
Matthew Kennington, Teacher
First Place, Division C
 
The Principles of Poetry
 
I.          A writer at rest will remain at rest until acted upon by an outside deadline.
 
II.         A poet's brain is a vacuum, and a poem abhors a vacuum.  If you don't write it down, it will die.
 
III.       The speed of light is constant.  For the light bulb over my head, that speed is zero.
 
IV.       A poem in motion will develop along a straight line until an editor ruins it!
 
V.        For every good idea a poet has, there is an equally strong voice saying, "That's stupid! This is better."
 
VI.       Every time a poem is made, poem-making energy is lost.
 
VII.      Every effect has a cause, and every word in a poem has a reason to be there.
 
VIII.     Poems cannot be created or destroyed.  But they can go on changing forever!
 
IX.       Water will seek its lowest point.  And poems will usually end up at the bottom of the ocean because currents will pull them down from the clouds.


 
Text Box: Casey Wahl
Grade 8
Meridian School, Provo
Matthew Kennington, Teacher
First Place, Division C
 
The Principles of Poetry
 
I.          A writer at rest will remain at rest until acted upon by an outside deadline.
 
II.         A poet's brain is a vacuum, and a poem abhors a vacuum.  If you don't write it down, it will die.
 
III.       The speed of light is constant.  For the light bulb over my head, that speed is zero.
 
IV.       A poem in motion will develop along a straight line until an editor ruins it!
 
V.        For every good idea a poet has, there is an equally strong voice saying, "That's stupid! This is better."
 
VI.       Every time a poem is made, poem-making energy is lost.
 
VII.      Every effect has a cause, and every word in a poem has a reason to be there.
 
VIII.     Poems cannot be created or destroyed.  But they can go on changing forever!
 
IX.       Water will seek its lowest point.  And poems will usually end up at the bottom of the ocean because currents will pull them down from the clouds.


 

 

 

Text Box: Alexandra Sage Crandall
Grade 7
Meridian School, Provo
Matthew Kennington, Teacher
Third Place, Division C
 
What I've Learned about Dreams
 
The night my dad died, I had a horrible dream.  I can't remember it now—this was seven years ago—but I remember how it felt. I climbed off my crinkly mattress and ran to Mom's room.  She was sitting up, on the edge of her bed, lost in thought. She told me Dad had gone up to heaven. I was six years old.
 
That was how I learned that dreams are like Russian dolls, stacked inside of each other, and that when you wake from one, there's always another.
 
Text Box: Alexandra Sage Crandall
Grade 7
Meridian School, Provo
Matthew Kennington, Teacher
Third Place, Division C
 
What I've Learned about Dreams
 
The night my dad died, I had a horrible dream.  I can't remember it now—this was seven years ago—but I remember how it felt. I climbed off my crinkly mattress and ran to Mom's room.  She was sitting up, on the edge of her bed, lost in thought. She told me Dad had gone up to heaven. I was six years old.
 
That was how I learned that dreams are like Russian dolls, stacked inside of each other, and that when you wake from one, there's always another.
 

 

 

Text Box: Mitchell Spencer
Grade 3
Challenger School, Sandy
Ethan Worthen, Teacher
Second Place, Division B
                                 Holloween
 
Halloween's the time that's mean
where the haunts are fun and cares are seen.
Scary creatures shout a call
while the spiders bite and crawl.
 
There are witches, wizards, goblins, cats,
there are pumpkins, spirits, ghosts and bats.
The witches and wizards cast a spell
while frightened children scream and yell.
 
There are treats like mints and lollipops.
There are treats like mints and lollipops.
There are prizes, pencils, fans and tops.
There are monsters that are black and green,
And its name is Halloween.


 
Text Box: Mitchell Spencer
Grade 3
Challenger School, Sandy
Ethan Worthen, Teacher
Second Place, Division B
                                 Holloween
 
Halloween's the time that's mean
where the haunts are fun and cares are seen.
Scary creatures shout a call
while the spiders bite and crawl.
 
There are witches, wizards, goblins, cats,
there are pumpkins, spirits, ghosts and bats.
The witches and wizards cast a spell
while frightened children scream and yell.
 
There are treats like mints and lollipops.
There are treats like mints and lollipops.
There are prizes, pencils, fans and tops.
There are monsters that are black and green,
And its name is Halloween.


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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