Emma

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Can you find the gerunds in this poem that I wrote? (Hint: there are 6 gerunds.)

I Remember By Emma Arnold

I remember buckling my seat belt in the shiny go-cart.

I remember driving onto the almost empty track.

I remember screaming as I raced around the track.

I remember feeling the wind in my face as I sped down a hill.

I remember grinning as I got back in line again and again.

I remember sighing when we had to leave.

I forget a lot of things, but when it comes to go-carts, there are a lot of things that I remember.

Death By Emma Arnold

I see the light Of the glowing moon Shining from above the water I try to swim up   To escape From this terrible thing This monster That holds me captive But it is too strong My throat burns I need to breathe But I can’t break free I feel the last bit of air leave my lungs And I am pulled Down Down Down Into the darkness Into my death

**Ode to Coke Zero** By Emma Arnold O, Coke Zero How I love you Your sleek, shiny, black can A perfect picture Of your complete radiance And when I take a gulp Of your total awesomeness My heart sings with happiness And caffeine Making me feel absolutely Bubbly on the inside How could something With zero calories Taste Like This? You are my past My future O, Coke Zero You are my life

My Motto Don’t bug me when I’m reading!!

The World Beneath the Waves  By Emma

Under the sparkling surface  Of the waves   There lies a great city   Waiting to be discovered

Down, down, down I swim  Into the cold, inky blackness   Suddenly, I see a shining blue   World of fantasy before me

Among the ruins  There stand tall towers   Thinking they’re empty   I swim closer

But then I see eyes  In a window   Blinking   Disappearing before my eyes

I swim to the window  Then turning around   I see a girl   With a tail like a fish   Leaving me alone once more

Although I never returned  Never will I forget   That world beneath the waves

//Lies// by: Michael Grant science fiction



[|map of the FAYZ]

[|map of Perdido Beach]

[|drawing of Sam Temple]

Where I’m From By Emma

I’m from litter boxes, From plastic bags and “Pooper Scoopers.” I’m from the anthill in my backyard. (I stepped on it in sandals.) I’m from my play-set made from wood, Whose roof was decorated with sidewalk chalk.

I’m from braces and glasses, From Texas and Alabama. I’m from best friends and mean girls, From “Get up!” and “Sit down!” I’m from Mark 16:16, And from taking the Lord’s Supper on Sundays.

I’m from the Arnold and the Poteet branches, From chicken fingers and cheese pizza. I’m from pulling the towel rod down—again, And crushing my toe under a door. Under my bed was a hanger, The sock that I lost last Tuesday, And dust bunnies.

I am from those moments, These frozen-in-time memories. They remind me of the person that I used to be As I try to find out the person that I am.