Today in class, the students in each discussion group chose a picture to write an original poem and post on their blog. In reviewing the posts from the Phoenix group, I chose to feature Lindsay Grace's poem. Lindsay chose to incorporate a bit of humor in her poem based on a conversation we had in group when picking out the photo.
Sixteen blades all in a row,
what they are for, I do not know.
Eight bolts ring a rosie to form a curved shape,
your surface rusted, filled with scrape.
My mind knows you turn round the void in the mid,
but your stationary oneness sends my confidence a skid.
Your lines are not straight instead they flow,
If only I knew how you go, go, go.
what they are for, I do not know.
Eight bolts ring a rosie to form a curved shape,
your surface rusted, filled with scrape.
My mind knows you turn round the void in the mid,
but your stationary oneness sends my confidence a skid.
Your lines are not straight instead they flow,
If only I knew how you go, go, go.
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