Lee Elementary’s 5th graders on Creativity, Imagined Creatures, and Hope


Dear reader, it has been a long year. Some students have been in the classroom and others have been dialing in from home. Everyone misses seeing their friends and we are all looking forward to a little more normalcy this summer. On the following pages, you will see for yourself what is on Ms. Joshi’s students’ minds.

Charlotte has beautifully expressed her feelings in “Solitude in Spring” and you can almost hear the exhale as you read her line, “Finally, the silence is broken.” Yes, we are ready to run free, have sleepovers, giggle and eat an ice cream cone while the melted parts drip down our arm. We’ve been patient and tolerant. We’ve had ample opportunity to explore our imaginations and be creative. As Eliza shared, “Creativity is always there with bright wisps of rainbow colors, it inspires you –an extravagant voice in the back of your mind.” Oh, please do listen, reader. You may hear the sounds of Daniel’s Giflermulf, ”In my imagination it’s an animal that you can see every time you walk into the dreams of my dreams –that are now your dreams.”

These students have shown great perseverance; they’ve grown and expanded their horizons. They’ve even written letters to inanimate objects. Jaiman penned a clever letter to the concept of time: “Dear clocks, I would especially like to learn quickly—how to become a better writer, summarizer, and quick main idea finder.”

These incredible students wrote about their favorite animals, breakfast, cookies (possibly for breakfast), football, love, happiness and progress. They wrote about clones, what should have been and baseball. Yes, dear reader, they even wrote about the bubbliest creature of all. Please scroll these pages to find out more. I just know that you will be inspired to follow your dreams and explore your own creative voice.

Jena Kirkpatrick
Badgerdog Teaching Artist

The Wolf

The wolf has yellow eyes and black and white fur. His eyes glowing in the dark and his fur giving a faint glow of white. He is looking for food for his cubs.

If he does not find food, he and his cubs would starve and die. He has to be fast and strong to catch his food. His cubs are waiting for him.

He catches two snow rabbits and when he gets home, he and his cubs will have a feast.

Aldin Wildes

Dear Shoes,

Why are you so double minded? I put you on with socks and you are so warm and comfortable.  When I put you in without socks, you are so uncomfortable. Do you have an attitude problem? It seems like when I wear you without socks then you revolt.  Sometimes you even stink. I’m not talking about just a stinky attitude. You actually stink.  Please cut this nonsense out!




progress, progress has been made
with millions being attended 
but millions still lie in wait
standing patiently for their turn

how much longer do we have
to be isolated from the world
in our own personal space station
even fresh air seems too far to grasp

the world has been flooded with despair
and we have only just started to dry it out
with towels and sponges
that can only do so much

progress, progress has been made
but is progress enough?
for whatever we do,
however hard we try,
progress isn’t perfect


Solitude in Spring

Solitude in spring,
New beginnings before November,
It’ll be okay by August.

Strike up conversation,
No, you go first
Finally the silence is broken.

It’ll be here soon enough,
River of leaves, now bare trees,
Gone as soon as it had appeared.

Blissful laughter, mindless banter,
we could be inseparable, I’ll be here forever,
Or I guess just for a while,

Even then, it’s enough.


Swooping Down

We were going so fast! It was like I was riding on the back of a hawk at 1000 MPH!
It was as if I was a cheetah sprinting through time
Or a falcon swooping down!
If only it was as real as that bunny it was swooping for—oh wait!
If it’s swooping for it is real—yay!

Connall McCain

The Giflermulf

My animal is not a real animal, but in my imagination it’s an animal that you can see every time you walk into the dreams of my dreams that are now your dreams but they are also my dreams. Never mind, never mind.

The animal is called Giflermulf, it’s pronounced giflermulf. It’s a kind animal with a good heart, a sweet tooth, and a taste for good watches—yes, watches.

He’s/she’s bubbly, kind, silly and is satisfied with one hug. He/she gets grouchy when you wake them up very early. It has a black coat, a tail, a long snout, and is sluggish sometimes. But over all he’s/she makes a fantastic pet.

Daniel Delehant Busch Armendariz

The Busy Rock Dog

The dog has a big tail,
a great big rock.
His big paws stomp on the trail.
He heads home to his dock.

Now the Rock Dog is fine!
He’s set up the sign.
Now not worrying at all.
But after that, soon,
Somewhere near noon,
his phone has a call.

He forgot to go shopping!
He’s worrying, hoping!
He doesn’t have any cash.
The bank is closed.
His money, in withhold.
He, bedaffled, only having ash.

He is now blue.
He ain’t got no clue
how he was wrong,
but now he’s good.
He’s still got food.
He was right all along.



Creativity is always there 
with bright wisps of rainbow colors, it inspires you.
An extravagant voice in the back of your mind 
taking over your thoughts.

Lost feathers glide through the wind,
ideas forgotten.
Words come back out of its gray beak,
giving you more things to think about. 

Sometimes, it can be loud and annoying,
repetitive at sometimes, too.
But the voice really makes you think on things
and it’s not leaving, at least not any time soon.

Eliza Gold

Walking of the Wolves

The wolves are being hunted
like the bucket being punted
soon they’ll be a myth,
or until there is a fifth.
The sound of a gun
that won’t be fun.
What a terrible sight,
nothing is alright.
The ground soaked with blood,
it will turn into a flood.
The endangered species act,
it’s bad that’s a fact.
The wolves are dying
and nobody is crying.

Evan Kim

Hi Mr. Football,

How come you don’t always let me catch you? Is it because I always kick you? Well, that is part of the life of a football!

Wait, is this about the time I kicked you over the school fence? Sorry I didn’t intend to do it. What?! You don’t ever want to pay again? Why? I didn’t do anything else!

You mean I did something to your friend? Oh, you mean the time I punted him the roof of a school during a chess tournament? Ok, how about I never try doing that again?

Oh you are scared you will suffer the same fate? Ok, I will never punt you near a roof.

Still not convinced huh? Wait you are worried someone will throw you over the fence while trying to throw you into the basketball hoop? And you don’t like being treated like a different ball? Well, that does make scene. Wait, if I tell them to stop and you will play?

Yay! Consider it done.

Gavin Dawson

The Wolf

The Wolf waits in silence 
The Wolf stalks its prey 
When the time comes 
The Wolf strikes  

The Wolf is a powerful tsunami 
The Wolf is a mighty mountain
The Wolf is a brave hero 

The Wolf is an angry crab 
The Wolf is an empowered bear 
The Wolf is an energized Peregrine Falcon

The Wolf is powerful

Hank Redmon

Getting My Bat

Crack, Bounce, Catch, Throw, Run, Slide, TagHe’s OUT!
At the plate I get my bat 
Throws the ball I make a crack
It’s like roaring thunder in the sky
Through the wind it makes me cry
Rumbling, tumbling, down the lane
Running the bases, I feel no pain
Nothing but happiness
Nothing but cheer
The big white disk is coming near
I slide, he tags
down low, up high
I’m jumping like a kangaroo
Lightly tapping the base
I fall on my face
Silence… He’s safe!

Henry Roselle

If I Were an Object

If I were an object
I would be a stuffed elephant stuffed animal
with big brown eyes,
soft gray fur,
long trunk,
long tail with soft hair at the end
and I would belong to a little girl.



Cats and dogs, equal
Girls and boys, equal
Blacks and whites, equal
Predators and prey, equal
Lions and tigers, equal
Wolves, and foxes, equal
Animals and plants, equal
Everyone is equal


The Lion and the Savannah

The Lion stalks his prey like an owl, waiting patiently. 
His stomach rumbles, yelling for the taste of meat. 
When the moment comes, he pounces, happily devouring its prey. 

With a full stomach, the beast happily walks home with the rest of his pack. 
His eyes whisper with sleepiness, telling him to rest for a while, with the waves of
calmness falling over his old bones. 
Slowly they close, and drift into a wave of calmness. 

In the morning, he wakes, eager as a child in front of candy. 
His children arise, wrestling each other for a bone. 
The troop moves, letting their appetites and their stomachs lead them to food and
dominance of the savanna. 

The Savannah eventually became a giant civilization. 
Soon, a new animal species takes over. 
They are the Elephants, as intelligent as a robot.

Leo Presti-Long

Letter to My Grey Laptop

Why do you always hop off my desk? Why do you try to escape? Is it because I put that grey leash on you? For the last time, that’s the plug! Why are you always taking naps when I need you to work! Please stop sleeping on the job!

I don’t want to replace you, but your sleeping problem has become too bad! I know I accidentally set you on the black couch and my dog sat on you, but you need to get over that! I am giving you one last chance. I really need you to help me out, okay?




Does it annoy you that kids climb you as they poke and twist your branches? Does it make you mad as they climb you and fall only to climb back up and do it over and over? Does it hurt when you watch as they chop you down only to leave you as a stump and use you as firewood, but only to wake again as smoke floating out the chimney?

But after all that do, you still love them. Or do you watch green with envy at how they move? And you don’t (or do) you respect them for how brave they are? Do you know as much as or do you know less then the wind? Do you ever visit your stump?



Lift your spirits high as you can, listen to what hope is,
when you bring a life of wonders
hidden in the dark all the small voices can sing,
so soft, so quiet, so beautiful.

I can see a life of music in the air
as it brings kindness to your heart,
to your life as a human,
as a unique, one-of-a-kind person.
No one is the same, and no one is better than everyone
or of one thing or single person 

Feeling the beat, as I see,
oh a life of someone’s smile
through the road of worry and doubt,
through happiness and success



They say you will make history,
but what are you if not a copy of another creature?

What are you if not fake life?

Why do you deserve all this fame,
when so many animals die everyday?

Why are they so happy you were created,
when so many had to perish to get you here?

Why do so many people hate you for no reason?

Why do some people think you are the future?

You may look like another creature,
but you are not.

You have your own personality,
which is unique in every way.

For something so beautiful,
can never be recreated.

Maylinn Woiwode


I love pandas.
They are cute,
chubby, bubbly animals.
What’s not to love?

Their black and white fur,
their shining dark eyes
and cute faces
are the most adorable features of an animal.



The T-Rex is the biggest dinosaur. 
And I want to learn more.

You lived 70 million years ago.
You’re no longer here , I know.

You can’t be hunted down, because you were at the top.
All of the other animals had to stop.

You were as tall as a tree. 
2.5 billion of you roamed free.

Your big sharp teeth scare me.
I wish I could think of something funny.

I’m glad you’re not here.
If you were, I would have a tear.

Miles Bloom

Love is a Thing with Puppy Breath

Love is a thing with puppy breath; 
filled with fur 
love is a thing with puppy breath; 
never once being a burr.

It waits for you when you get home; 
then it’s a lion that sees a gazelle, 
about to go on the hunt. 
Covering you with slobber and drool; 
never once trying to be cruel. 

They are devoted and kind; 
only with protection and loyalty in mind, 
like a loyal soldier ready to go to an impossible war; 
not thinking of it once as a chore. 

They never wind down; 
even when bound 
to a chair. 

Love is a thing with puppy breath, 
with you until your last sigh. 
Love is a thing with puppy breath, 
always right next to your left thigh. 
Love is a thing with puppy breath. 
Not ready, yet, for you to die. 

Love is a thing with puppy breath.



Your eyes are a sea of moonshine, soft and singing,
made of ghosts and stars.
Your eyes are full of sadness and pain,
memories of death and blood still flash in your pupils.

Your life, your rarity 
is as precious as time,
your time, your time here.

Your pawsteps stir the snow, 
lifting seeds and grass to the pale winter sky
rise up, your eyes say.

You take one last look at this earth,
this terrible, poisoned, dying earth,

with your blue-gray-white ghostly eyes,
those sunshine-filled, moonlight-spun eyes
then you turn away

and run away
far, far away
away from all that will hurt you.
These people
do not understand.
You are life, you are love, you are our test.

Maybe someday, somehow,
we can live together, in harmony.
For now,

See you later, Star Wolf.

Olive Fountain

Dear Happiness,

It has been a little over a year since your departure and since then boredom and tiredness have moved in your old place in my mind. I guess you probably left after the pandemic hit, but the number of cases have decreased greatly and doctors have almost perfected a vaccine for ages 12 and up, so I hope you will move back in soon.

In case you didn’t hear me the first couple of times, I’ve missed you so much, but you probably know that since I’ve written 2,672 letters while you were out. I think it might’ve been because my dear friend and great protector facemask moved in. Or maybe these letters aren’t getting there, but if you get this, please write me back to let me know you are okay. 



What It Should Have Been

The elephant calf roamed the savanna with three of the original forty-seven elephants in her herd. Her herd had once been populous, moving confidently from one watering hole to another, sometimes skirting the lush, emerald and chocolate-colored forests. There used to be so much joy, as though nothing could go wrong. But now, it was a hard search for water in some places. The forests that they had once skirted had been almost completely cut down. Where there had once been beautiful oceans of leaves and trunks and branches, there were now only countless graves for thousands of trees and animals. Monkeys and birds, lizards, snakes, all buried in what had once been called home. She knew that there were other places that were still lush and full of life, but not here. 

Somewhere else, there would be huge watering holes swarming with flamingos and zebras and wildebeests. There would be lions, prowling the undergrowth, pouncing at a large gazelle that had wandered away from the herd. Then, the lion would drag it home to feed the pride. There would be a plump leopard sitting in a tree in a grove and vultures would scavenge what it could not finish of its meal. And there would be enormous forests, softly vibrating with the chitters of monkeys, the sweet chirps and warbles of birds, the small squeaks of lizards, and the rhythmic hiss of the snakes. 

But not here. Oh, no. Not here. Here, you will see dried up watering holes. You will see no flamingos splashing in the fantasy of the deep blue water. You would see unnaturally small herds of zebras and wildebeests, their bony legs stumbling over rocks, bleached by the merciless sun beating down on them. A starved lion would weakly drag itself through the dry and dead savannah grass, trying desperately to find anything for its nearly diminished pride of fellow lions. A skeletal leopard would cling to the bark of a burnt tree, a small island in an ocean of stumps. A lone vulture would fly in circles, very near the possibility of plummeting out of the sky as it waited for any carcass to scavenge. 

Here, you can no longer see the grand forests that once stood. You could no longer hear the chitters of monkeys, the sweet chirps and warbles of birds, the small squeaks of lizards, and the rhythmic hiss of the snakes. You could only hear echoes of their shrieks of terror as their homes crashed to the ground.

Back there, in the perfect world, huge herds of elephants would travel, their lovely lives continuing. But here, in this terrestrial wasteland, the elephants are barely hanging on. They had lost twenty-nine herd members to poachers and thirteen more to heat, lack of water, starvation, and disease. They had only lost one to old age. Everything around them was losing life. And there were two worlds for them. What it was… and what it should have been.

Pilar Dettmer

The Bubbliest Creature of All

Warm and fuzzy, sweet and 
soft, guinea pigs are all these things
and even, even more.

Their squeaks are little 
gummies you enjoy with 
every bite

Their chubby selves might as 
well be the reason I

Guinea pigs deserve more love.
They live like lower class
to rodent such as hamsters. 

Guinea pigs are delicious chocolates
you find at the candy store,
but if you don’t like chocolate,

Guinea pigs are the 
grandest of all
I hope you think so too!!!

Ridley Jackson

The Last Cookie

Mike and Mary heard my mom say from downstairs, “We have one more cookie.”

They ran so fast that I wondered if people could become cars. But then Mike and Mary stopped fighting and running and ran faster to Mary’s bedroom because the cookie was oatmeal and raisin. Mary and Mike don’t like oatmeal and raisin cookies, because they don’t like oatmeal or raisin at all. And they only like snickerdoodles. My mom usually makes snickerdoodles, but today she made oatmeal and raisins.

Mom walked to Mary’s bedroom to talk about why they only eat snickerdoodles. They said, “We love the sweet taste of the cinnamon in our mouth.”

Mom understood and will not make more oatmeal and raisins. Mom said, “I will teach you to make snickerdoodles.” Then Mike and Mary ran to the kitchen to make snickerdoodles.


Summer Time

What I’m gonna do for summer vacation is that I will go to summer camp, and I’m gonna have playdates with my friends. I will play outside with my friends, and I will have pool parties at one of the volunteer’s house. And when I go outside, I will play football.


Inside the Strange Folder

This writing folder is a little strange,
Since you need to write in a different range,
You need to write a different story,
To keep up your writing glory,
They can be long or maybe short,
And you might need a bit of support,
But remember, when you are feeling down,
And looking around,
There is something to start a story.



Wolf breaks the silence,
sprinting through the forest faster and faster,
jumping over fallen logs,
seeing through the fog,
suddenly spotting dinner,
he crouches,
he squints,
hazel eyes,
white fur,



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