Monday, April 20, 2009

A poem by WizzKid ......

The Race.

Nervously I stand behind the block
One whistle, two whistles and I’m on top
For a moment the world seems to freeze
Then the 3rd whistle causes the silence to cease

High over the glass water I soar
For a second it’s still and nothing more
With a minute splash I’m engulfed in
Under the water I stay as straight as a pin

As fast as I can, I race to the end
The crowd goes wild as I writhe and bend
Closer and closer to the wall I come
My legs and my arms start to go numb

The checkered flags rush up to greet me
Victory in my mouth tastes sweetly
I touch the wall and I cant swim on
But I don’t have to because I’VE WON.

xx

3 comments:

Elinor Dashwood said...

Great job WizzKid!!!! Fabulous poem!

Jerelene said...

Wizzkid did a wonderful job on this poem!! He should be very proud!! The page looks great..LOVE the new picture, Very Pretty :)

ByHISgoodGrace said...

Wow, that's a great poem. Very intriguing, well rhymed! He's talented in many ways!