Skip to Content Find it Fast

This browser does not support Cascading Style Sheets.

Robert Frost Farm
Web site funded by:
Center for New England Culture

2006 Robert Frost Youth Poet Program Winning Poets and Poems

 

2006 Robert Frost Youth Poet

Sarah Regan
Janet Scagnelli, teacher
Harold H. Wilkins Elementary School
Amherst
673-4411

Hay Fever
		
        Muscles clenching as hay swiftly flies
          Dust and dirt caked in my eyes
          Stab it.
          Grab it.
        A job well done is half begun
          Tomorrow I will do more before
          the rising sun.
        As I walk in the silence of the empty barn,
          My throbbing footsteps echo, but do me no harm.
        Tomorrow is another day
          Through the birch trees, the barn
          awaits for me to toss the hay.

Belknap County Poet

Kelsy Buckley
Pam Hayes, teacher
Gilford Elementary School
Gilford
524-1661

Farming in the Granite State
		
        It’s the crack of dawn
          farmers are already awake, dressed
          and heading out to tend to their crops.
          The early morning dew
          is still on the ground.
          The crisp cold air
          is nipping the farmers’ faces.
          Breaking through the soil with their plows
          preparing it for their crop.
          Planting the seeds just as the sun rises high
          above them.
          Chapped hands, aching back, and blistered feet
          the farmers don’t care.
          They are determined to get their corn planted
          and off to a growing start.
          The last seed is planted and watered,
          the sun has just set
          behind the mountains.
          Time to get some rest 
          for tomorrow’s battle
          of getting the job done
          before another sun sets.

Belknap County Honorable Mention

Demi Remick
Mary Beth Godbout, teacher
Gilford Elementary School
Gilford
524-1661

New Hampshire
		
        The wind whispers by like someone’s trying to tell you a secret.
          Trees grow left and right like a rainforest, 
		  	hiking to find your way out.
          Birds working like crazy building their nest for their young.
          Seeing a blue jay, a chipmunk, and a squirrel scurry about 
		  	gathering food for the winter.
          Having the time of your life playing in Lake Winnepesaukee.
          Speed boats shoot by like a cheetah chasing his prey.
          Skiing down the bumpy rough ski slopes of Gunstock Mountain.
          Seeing the wonderful sights of New Hampshire.

Cheshire County Poet

Ivy Pepin
Teresa Starkey, teacher
Chesterfield Elementary School
Chesterfield
363-8301

The Woodcutter
		
          Through the forest marches The Woodcutter.
          His calloused hand holds a solid axe.
          His boots crunch through the golden leaves.
          The forest seems to stand still at His presence.
  The Trees stop rustling their leaves,
  The Squirrel stops his constant scolding,
  The Raccoon stares quietly at Him
  As He marches by.
  Suddenly He stops
  At the foot of The Oak Tree.
  The Tree trembles with fear and respect
  As The Woodcutter raises His axe.
  He swiftly swings it toward The Oak Tree.
  Clang! A shower of splinters sprays across the forest.
  Clang! Clang! The Oak Tree teeters.
“Tiimmbbeerrr!” calls The Woodcutter,
  His voice echoing in the forest.
  The Oak Tree mightily crashes to the forest floor.
  The animals scatter.
  The Woodcutter lifts up the Tree
  With His strong, sunburned arms.
  He places it gently on His ox cart.
  Finally, axe in hand, The Woodcutter
  Marches home.

Cheshire County Honorable Mention

Billy Scanlon
Laurel Powell, teacher
Chesterfield Elementary School
Chesterfield
363-8301

Work in New Hampshire
		
        Chop wood very fast.
          Sweaty muscles popping out,
          Sawing back and forth.
        Logs going down fast.
          Logs crashing into each other,
          Tumbling down the stream.
        People pushing them.
          Going down to the sawmills,
          To be cut up straight.
        Men cutting up wood,
          Smelling the sap, hear the roaring,
          All the sawdust floats.
        Going to homes,
          By many horse-driven carts.
          Building houses strong.
        Now, they have machines.
          Now they have power for work,
          To make tools perform.

Coos County Poet

Samantha Paquin
Isabelle Kleinschrodt, teacher
Lancaster School
Lancaster
788-4924

Old Fashioned Jobs
		
        Once a long time ago,
          there were different jobs I’ve come to know.
        Men worked hard and long,
          plowing their land all day long.
        Apple picking under the blue sky,
          all day men reached very high.
        Sitting under an apple tree as they gaze,
          it hypnotized them into a deep daze.
        The crystal rivers which trout do swim,
          fishermen fished all day under a tree limb.
        From green grass to white snow,
          From a shovel to a gardening hoe,
          New Hampshire has changed from old jobs to new,
          To me it’s still the same, but maybe not to you.

Coos County Honorable Mention

Kaitlin B. Wood
Lynn Emery, teacher
Lancaster School
Lancaster
788-4924

Great Workers
		
        Today, and a long time ago, New Hampshire were brave and know . . .
        We are the Granite State, and we are grand and great.
        New Hampshire’s the place where we have farms, and our workers 
			build them with old time charms.
        The leaves may ripple, and the branches may tear, but that does not matter 
			because we have workers that care.
        We have firemen that help us survive, and we have lifeguards to teach us to dive.
        We have people who work at stores, and we have moms who make samores.
        We have forest men, to take care of nature’s fresh, beautiful den.
        We have teachers to get kids smart, and we have mechanics to get the car to start.
        We have so many workers that are great, that’s because we are the Granite State!

Grafton County Poet

Nathalie Ferneau
Cynthia Williamson, teacher
Crossroads Academy
Lyme

Logging
		
        The elm tree crashes to the ground.
          Some one calls “Step up Jack.”
          The giant work horse tows the elm.
          What will happen to the tree?
          Perhaps it will be a chair, or a dresser.
          But the horse does not know this.
          He will placidly drag the tree
          However long he needs to.
          Every day the huge horse
          Works at logging the forest.
          Even when the snow blankets
          The trees like a quilt, he works
          He is a real logging horse!
          From dawn to dusk he labors
          He is ever faithful to his master.
  Now, the work horse
  Is replaced by tractors.
  Even so, the logger and his horse,
  Will be remembered.

Grafton County Honorable Mention

Hunter Schon
Mrs. Force, teacher
Bernice A. Ray School
Hanover
643-6655

Logging
		
        Click, Click,
          I hear my horse’s harness clicking,
          his breath comes out as steam,
          his hooves make large deep holes as he pulls the logs,
          My back is aching,
          My cheeks are red and rosy,
          The snow falls thickly through the forest as I walk,
          I see a light shining in my house ahead warm and inviting
          I can almost feel my warm bed,
          as I lead my horse to the stable my eyelids heavy,
          and sleep almost upon me.

Hillsborough County Poet

Isabelle Slattery
Ms. Giylfoyle, teacher
Pelham Elementary School
Pelham
635-8875

New Hampshire’s First Jobs Haiku
		
        New Hampshire settlers
          Came to fish and work the fields
  Those were the first jobs.

Hillsborough County Honorable Mention

Tristan Close
Jean Paul, teacher
Charlotte Avenue School
Nashua
594-4334

I walk down the street
          I see flowers in full bloom
          People tending to their plants
          While humming a lovely tune
          The things people do
          Just to have a scenic view

Merrimack County Poet

Daniel Vignati
Sue Ann Martin, teacher
Broken Ground School
Concord
225-0885

Raking Leaves
		
        Off of a maple tree fall
          Leaves of every shape and size,
          Flying
  through
  the
  air, Intricate designs,
  Tiny as a hair.
  Each tiny little leaf would take,
  Hours to describe.
        Each one’s a mini puzzle piece,
          Of New Hampshire’s pride.

Merrimack County Honorable Mention

Andrew Werktein
Mrs. Bennert, teacher
Bow Elementary School
Bow
225-2049

Work In New Hampshire
		
        In the early 1600s
          ships were what they made,
          but since the 1680s
          shipbuilding has seemed to fade.
        Then in the 1700s
          the blacksmiths came to town,
          for them the power of molding
          metal with fire had been found.
        If you lived in the early 1900s
          you probably would work at a mill
          but even if you worked real hard,
          one dollar would be your bill.
        In the 1950s
          lots of people cut wood
          and with that axe
          man, were they good!!
        Now in the present day
          you may be a businessman
          or even a teacher,
          maybe a baseball player or preacher.
        What’s really very clear
          is that work has changed a lot
          people have tried to make our
          states a better place by working hard
          and giving all they got.

Rockingham County Poet

Hanna McLean
Ms. Jean, teacher
Lincoln Akerman School
Hampton Falls
926-2539

We are Workers
		
        Working in the pasture among cows and hay,
          peaceful, quiet chewing sounds munching on their way,
          I am the farmer this is my workspace,
          I am the farmer and this is my favorite place—
        My glorious items sell there in towns where money lays
          my hat sits snugly on my head protecting me from sunny rays,
          I am the merchant this is my workspace,
          I am the merchant and this is my favorite place—
        Working in my small hot shed I am the youngest of brothers
          this is my work and yes it is sweeter than most others,
          I am the maple sugarer this is my workspace,
          I am the maple sugarer and this is my favorite place—
        Pressing, pressing all day long things really couldn’t be better,
          and I can certainly help you out if you’re looking to write a letter,
          I am the paper maker this is my workspace,
          I am the paper maker and this is my favorite place—
        All of these workers love their jobs and do them very well,
          these jobs aren’t easy—no they’re not—but all of them are swell,
          they are workers that’s their workspace,
          they are workers and that’s their favorite place—

Rockingham County Honorable Mention

Shannon Finney
Ida Dziura, teacher
South Londonderry Elementary School
Londonderry
432-6956

Distracted Chipmunk
		
        A taut chipmunk
          busily scavenging for food
          looked beneath him
          and saw the pristine snow
          resting like a kitten below him.
        He looked above him
          and saw the lustrous moon
          watching him
          standing out like fireworks
          in the dreary, murky
          sky.
        As the clouds started to float
          and cover the moon
          as a blanket would a baby,
          the alert little chipmunk,
          spotted an acorn on the ground.
        He was thinking of storing
          the acorn in his burrow
          because winter had already arrived,
          but he noticed four trees
          standing tall when everything else is 
          flat.
        Two trees wore long dresses
          like ladies at a dance
          and two stood as bare as a cob
          with all the corn eaten up.
        Suddenly,
          the chipmunk hears something
          when the whole world is silent
       A gentle swishhh
          rings loudly in the chipmunk’s ear.
          A soft tip tap
          echoes explosively
          in the chipmunk’s head.
        In a heartbeat
          the chipmunk vanishes
          into his burrow,
          and the whole world is
          silent again.
        When the chipmunk
          looks around in his burrow
          he notices
          that he didn’t have
          enough food for winter.

Strafford County Poet

Tyler Farrow
Barbara Brown and Donna Gagnon, teachers
Gonic Elementary School
Gonic
332-6487

Jobs in New Hampshire
		
        There are many around,
          If someone has enough money,
          They might want to build a
          Hotel like the Hilton,
          With a water view in Milton,
          Some people from Hampton Falls,
          Might like a job answering phone calls,
          Then in Lancaster,
          There lives a forecaster,
          If your care dies in Bow,
          You can keep someone in business
          by calling for a tow,
          There is a boy in Derry,
          Whose dad works on a ferry,
          There is a girl in Center Harbor,
          That has a grandfather who is a barber,
          There is a doctor in Rye,
          That tries to save people so
          They won’t die,
          A lady from Weirs Beach,
          Really like to teach,
          So whatever you want to do,
          There is some job out there
          for you.

Sullivan County Poet

Molly Adams
Susan Pullen, teacher
Plainfield School
Meriden
469-3250

In a Place so New
		
        In a place where I traveled to
          in a place so new
          in a place where the Indians roam
        I herd my sheep, for that is all I have,
          in a place I must now call home
        In a place so new,
          where the trees are so beautiful
          and where the wildlife thrives
        Where the only sounds are the wind through the trees
          and the singing birds
          and the soft thump of my boots.
        In this great place
        This beautiful place
        In this place so . . .
          
  new

Sullivan County Honorable Mention

Emily Morison
Fran Hills, teacher
Plainfield School
Meriden
469-3250

1749 in New Hampshire
		
        On my farm
          Of life and crops
          I pick the corn
          And cut the hay
        On this hot
          Summer day
          Here in Dover
          Far away
          From my home land
        Feeding the cows
          And herding the sheep
          And finally going to
          Sleep

 

Back to Youth Poet Program Information