Poetry Rhythmical beauty in words

Poetry (1)
Round Square

Poetry Rhythmical beauty in words

Special Guest: Nil
Venue: KC Public School, Jammu 
Date: 26th April 2022

Indeed, ‘Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words,’ as stated by Edgar Allan Poe. Poetry is words which hold power, in lines which sound sweet, and this is what World Poetry Day celebrates. The Round Square Event, organised each year on the 21st of March, brings together young Shakespeares and Wordsworths from across the world, to cherish and appreciate the blessing of words. This year, Coronavirus did not stand as a triumphant barrier against childlike minds. Beautiful thoughts were put forth in words, and the merit of poetry was treasured once more.

In order to celebrate World Poetry Day, KC Public School, Jammu invited schools around the world to collaborate in the project ‘Poetry- Rhythmical Beauty in Words’. The task was to create three self-composed poems out of which one poem had to be handwritten with illustration. 

Broad Themes for writing Poetry are Nature, Celebration, Adventure, Any tenet of Discovery Framework, Growing up and Online Classes.

Participants– Grace Mathews, Gia Bonny, Namita Jose 

Name of teacher/student In-charge: Ms Liby, Ms Meera

Introduction to the poem Topic: Adventure
The poem is about a girl who is from/part of the moon. Her soul craves adventure and it keeps her alive. The wild itself loves her. In the end, she returns to where she belongs, the unlimited skies.

She Might’ve Been a Piece of the Moon

-Namitha Jose-

51 days after the moon’s
51st birthday
Crowned with ebony
The rarest sight, the biggest beauty
A piece of the moon fell of gently

It grew up to be a goddess
Who would jump from heaven above
Or walk barefoot
through the earth’s mangroves
Some called it mad, some called it sorcery
For she had a soul made of fire and misery

Her hair danced in the air
As the wind caressed her curls
The wild embraced her
As all her pain would unfurl.
It adorned her in silver and pearls

To run was as though
She’d found her lover
Whom she had lost
Countless years ago.
It made her vision fog over
as her face emitted an unearthly glow

She kept running towards the north
Through the forests and waterfalls
Until she reached the ends of the earth
Where her mother, the queen of rebirth
Asked her, “My dear, my little sun who glows,
How much farther, will you go?”

She smiled as she lilted,
“Mother”, “I do not stop here
Nor do I stop anywhere
I, your daughter, your beloved child
Am a drop of silver with blue eyes

I am a girl of the skies.”

-Namitha Jose

Introduction to the poem
This poem is written from the perspective of a patient snowflake, which is merrily awaiting that lovely day when it shall descend into the wonderful quarters of brookland creatures, which it beheld from a soft cloud. The cheery snowflake muses over the quiet festivities and fretful misdemeanours which foster a charm to that delightful setting, by the brook.

A Delightful Brookland Wonder

Grace Mathews

Down I peer with great delight,
Upon a brook so fair,
With rhododendrons blooming bright,
‘Lovely!’ I do declare.

Hedgehogs hold their nightly council,
Under the stately birch,
Which for squirrels and woodpeckers,
Is a merry little perch.

Mother duck graciously demonstrates,
The tedious task of how to float,
Clever ducklings smile naughtily,
And conveniently take a boat.

And here and there a snout appears,
Looking for cherries sweet,
Granny possum swings her broom,
And sends him off his feet.

Mother dove with handkerchief,
Waves penitent chicks goodbye,
As from their nests with birch tree leaves,
They attempt to fly.

Father beaver sallies anxiously,
Calling for cubs to return,
But riding on a snail is he,
When shall he ever learn?

Grandpa toad plodds along,
His plum-like nose in a book,
And straight into the brook he heads,
And never stops to look.

Earthworms dig endless tunnels,
As good as any man,
Until they go round in circles,
And reach right where they began.

Once again the hedgehogs unite,
To discuss a solemn matter,
On worms in apples and holes in socks,
And how to not get fatter.

While up above on a soft cloud,
I see the dawn break,
Knowing that one lovely day I shall sojourn here,
As a gentle young snowflake.

Introduction to the poem: Growing Up
Books have always been dear to my heart. They shaped me up into the person I am today. Reading is essential as it educates and nurtures the mind. I believe that one is never too young or old to read. There is something for everyone.
Growing up with books enabled me to go on adventures and feed my young mind with words of wisdom that I will always carry with me through all walks of my life. I chose this topic with this insight, and hopefully, to get you to start your own odyssey.


Gia Bonny

Growing up with books,
is an enchanting journey
through the depths of the
ocean of wisdom and joy,
with hope in my heart.

My first stop:
The daily mishaps of Greg Heffley;
Engaging sketches and relatable plot
kept me hooked.
Comparison of stick figures to my comrades
amused my young, imaginative mind.

Surprising entry of Roald Dahl
into this enchanting realm,
was my Golden Ticket to a new chapter
of this fascinating voyage.
Bright and lovely Matilda,
her kindness touched my heart.
Lush language, bizarre plot,
left me wanting more.
Stand up for those who deserve it, I decided.
Empathy, a virtue I learned.
All thanks to this magical cruise!

The stormy, dull seas of Covid lockdown,
brought me closer to the Golden Trio,
Alongside dragons, wizards and muggles.
I anxiously watched the story unfold.
Whizzed through the books faster than the firebolt.
Perseverance of ‘the boy who lived’
had me submerged into the mysteries of Hogwarts.
I got my letter delivered by the owl
to continue this wonderful voyage.

Hopped aboard the Argo II with the seven,
on a quest to Rome, battling giants alongside demigods.
Entrapped by the mythical creatures and brave heroes;
Mythology meets modern in a brilliant conception.
Hard work and camaraderie always win.
Living my dream through pages,
I adore this adventurous sail!

Jumped in the wagon of classics,
The feeling of hiraeth overflowing me.
Elizabeth and Darcy, Count Dracula, Frankenstein
eager for my company.
Interspersed with some Shakespeare and Emerson,
What a delightful trip it is turning out to be!

Lo and behold! The true gift I realize
is the journey and not the treasure!
Looking back at my previous routes,
Seeing changes in myself as a person
Is the push I need
to continue my Odyssey.