Tonight, my colleagues and I gave presentations about what our seventh-grade program looks like. I know this may seem odd, since we're teachers, but a few of us were nervous to speak in front of a crowd. Although it started rocky, it turned out pretty well. Parents had good questions, and genuinely seemed interested in our school. We felt good about it.
This wasteland cold and dark runs free Its fearful creatures speak to me One fateful day one nudged my hand To set my eyes upon a tree He knew I could not understand For I was in his native land His signs became our common speech To lead me through the deadly sand Now stuck I saw him me beseech He could not lift me out to reach The firm foundation of a cave Outside the boundaries of this beach Withal, the beast became more brave To risk his own my life to save To carry me, its life it gave To carry me, its life it gave. This poem was inspired by Robert Frost's "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening." That poem, like this one, has four four-line stanzas of eight syllables per stanza. Its rhyme scheme is AABA BBCB CCDC DDDD.
yay :)
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