January 14, 2017MoonlightPriya Bartlett

The light is bright in the
forest.
Nobody sees the beauty
of the moon.
The stream glimmers.
Nobody sees the beauty
of the moon.
The leaves slowly fall.
Nobody sees the beauty
of the moon.
The river turns to a
sea of golden leaves.
Nobody sees the beauty
of the moon.
Night is over.
Day is here.

Priya Bartlett (age 7)

Why do you like to write poetry?

“I love weaving my imagination with words and creating ribbons of poetry to cast out into the world.”