It's almost Christmas when the ground turns white,
You somehow know snow had fallen all night.
The houses are full of decoration.
The children look with anticipation.
Colorful Christmas wreaths hang on the door.
A small wooden manger sits on the floor.
The little children go outside to play,
They can get going fast in their red sleigh.
Before you know it, it is time for bed,
But the little children just shake their heads.
When at last they finally fall asleep,
Not one person can hear a single peep.
Early next morning at the crack of dawn,
The sleepy children stir, wake up and yawn.
They run down the stairs, jumping up and down,
Looking in awe at the presents they found.
Little dolls with lots of curly brown hair,
A small choo-choo train and a teddy bear.
"Look what I got!" they would merrily shout,
Like puppies yelping and running about.
Santa Claus and his reindeer came this way,
And so it was said, a nice Christmas Day.
-- Kimberly Hrycik, 10, Colden
The New Millennium
What is it going to be like? New things,
new meanings, what do we know? What is it going
to be like? MILLENNIUM. What does it mean?
What, when, where, why and how?
Will it be regular
will it be normal
All I can tell you is . . .
We won't know until it comes.
-- Stephanie Tartick, 10,
Christmas Day, Christmas Day
Open presents and say hooray!
Santa, Blitzen and Rudolph too,
Set the table with joy not blue.
Build your snowman nice and round
Form your angels on the ground
Spend time with family that love you so
dress warm and cozy from head to toe.
Christmas comes once a year
so make the best of it with fun and cheer.
-- Marissa Pytlak, Hamburg
I glide across the deep rich snow,
coming to a point where I
have to decide,
if I should keep on going
or if I should retreat.
I keep on going closer and closer,
knowing that the ice could
flip me at any time,
I head on.
The jump getting bigger and bigger, calculating how fast to go
or what angle to go off,
I'm having many thoughts
but too late
there is no turning back I
hit the jump,
I am in the air for
seconds, minutes, it feels like hours.
I hit the ground, I hit it hard
but I stand,
I have passed the test and
the pressure is off
I say, "dude, let's do it again."
-- Alex Ritchie, 14, Clarence
Send your poems to Kids Corner, NeXt, Features Department, The Buffalo News, P.O. Box 100, Buffalo, N.Y. 14240. Be sure to include your name, age and address. Poems should be typed and cannot be returned.