• My Little Sister
  • The Ballad of the Sidewalk Chalk
  • Debbie
  • Debbie #2
  • If I Were ....
  • The Unrelenting
  • This is the House
  • Where I'm From
  • I Wish
  • My Father After Work
  • The Heroes
  • My best friend
  • The Five Senses
  • Haiku
  • A Simple Ring
  • My Bed
  • Ode to Dr Pepper
  • Friends & Family
  • A Gift for You

  • "My Little Sister"

    Dedicated to Joan

    Angel face and long blond hair,
    Rosy cheeks and skin that's fair,
    Pouty lips and a stubby nose,
    Cuteness from her head to toes.

    Little girl of only three,
    Little eyes sparkle with glee,
    Loves her brothers, sisters too,
    Loves her Mom and Dad and you.

    Little sweetie, 'til she's mad,
    Then she tantrums and acts sad,
    Pouty lips and downcast eyes,
    Sits right down, and then she cries.

    Hyper, bouncing off the walls,
    Happy, even when she falls,
    Silly, little games we play,
    Goofing off half of the day.

    Little girl now lays asleep,
    Prays the Lord her soul to keep,
    Little sister, who I love,
    Sent from God who's up above.

    -Debbie Darrow, December 11, 1997
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    The Ballad of the Sidewalk Chalk
    dedicated to Kevin Lindauer

    The day was warm, the sun was out,
    The birds were in the trees.
    My friends and I had sought a plan
    That with him we would tease.

    We grabbed the pail, walked out the door
    And headed up the street
    With anxious thoughts and hopes and fears
    That him we would not meet.

    As we approached, a man next door
    Exclaimed, "Good Afternoon!"
    He giggled as we walked on by
    To him, we were a boon.

    We set our tools upon the drive
    And set upon our task
    So in the glory of our art
    Then surely we would bask.

    Upon our canvas, white and rough,
    Our pictures soon emerged.
    A Ďfille de France,í a smile, a sun,
    As all the colors surged.

    We stood content and viewed our art
    Then signed our names with glee.
    "With love, your students: Deb and Dave,
    That Ian boy, Marie."

    Then as we stood with gleeful mirth
    A door behind us rose.
    My friends ran off, but there I stood
    Just hoping it would close.

    Out in the street a car pulled up
    And halted with a screech.
    The womanís plaintive question then
    Was answered with ĎOur teach.í

    "A prank we play on him we love,
    Our favorite teacher too!"
    ĎWeíre sorry.í"Yes, weíll clean it up."
    ĎWhat do we have to do?í

    The woman laughed and said, "Itís fine.
    You gave me quite a start.
    But now I see this prank of yours
    Is coming from your heart."

    Collectively we breathed a sigh,
    A sigh of great relief.
    Our teacher then should have no qualm
    With his new drive motif.

    We talked and laughed then said "Goodbye!"
    And hurried from that place.
    But as the time continued on,
    In worry Debbie paced.

    "Iíve lost his trust, of that Iím sure!
    Oh, what a stupid prank."
    "Relax!" said Rie, to no avail,
    As Debbieís spirits sank.

    Soon Monday came, and with it school,
    And science class as well.
    Outside his room, the air was tense.
    Two minutes Ďtil the bell.

    Then down the hall, his form appeared,
    Caffeine in hand, red faced.
    He stopped and said, "We need to talk."
    No humor could be traced.

    Debís stomach flipped, her face turned pale,
    Her heart was filled with dread.
    She knew now that her doom was near
    Just by the words heíd said.

    "Not now," he said, "Iíve not the time.
    Iím late and I must go."
    He turned to leave, but thought again,
    "Itís serious, you know."

    Her fate impending, tombstone carved,
    She left with heavy step
    To History, then English class
    Grim faced, no sign of pep.

    Just one more class until her end,
    Third period was choir.
    The melodies and harmonies
    Her sorrow did inspire.

    Her pencil out, she wrote a plea
    Of teen stupidity.
    If only heíd forgive her now,
    Sheíd gain his trust, heíd see.

    She signed her name, and just in time
    The bell was due to ring.
    So out the door and up the stairs,
    The floor admiring,

    She raised her eyes only to see,
    His face as cold as stone.
    She took a breath, passed him the note,
    Let out a little moan.

    A few lines read, he passed it back,
    A smile upon his face.
    "Before I read this, let me say
    My angerís not the case."

    "The man next door enjoyed your show,
    My girlfriend thought it swell.
    To tell the truth, in high school I
    Pulled quite a prank as well."

    This made her laugh and meet his eyes,
    Her gloom had disappeared.
    She realized as she talked with him
    It wasnít as sheíd feared.

    "A long day done, at home I rest,
    To get my mind off school.
    To see your names upon my drive,
    Well, that was simply cruel.

    "Donít come again, or if you do
    Make sure itís Halloween.
    You better have a costume on
    That makes me want to scream."

    She laughed again, he wasnít mad,
    Her heart again content.
    His mischief in his early years
    Helped him see her intent.

    "When school is done, weíll keep in touch,
    Of that I will make sure.
    Please tell your friends and sister too,
    That Mr. Lindauer

    "Sends his hello, he is not mad,
    He will not call the cops.
    You students are the best of his
    You simply are the tops."

    Her faith regained and stomach calmed,
    She walked into the class
    So glad to learn, like all things else
    That even this would pass.

    Or so she thought, then six months in
    Her act came back to haunt
    For in the halls of Kennedy
    The Doc appeared to daunt.

    "Hi, Doctor Lin" she said to him
    With perky munchkin voice.
    He turned and fixed his glare on her
    And took commando poise.

    "I saw that driveway, yes indeed."
    His words meant to convict.
    She speechless stood, her mouth agape,
    As if she had been kicked.

    To break the silence in came Tom
    "My sisterís such a dork.
    Unto her teachers she does talk."
    He said this just to irk.

    Then in reply the Doc came quick
    "One reason I do see,
    They talk to her, because of course,
    So pitiful is she."

    Emotions stunned, no words would come
    She watched him walk away.
    A ruthless heart to her explained,
    The things he had to say.

    Her cry of rage soon reached the ears
    of Mr. Lin, the kind.
    "Donít blame my dad, itís not his fault
    You have to keep in mind

    "The Darrow he first met and knew
    Was none other than Tom
    Why do you think he first assumes
    That all you do is wrong?"

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    The following poems are from
    As The Years Go By

    Debbie Darrow

    Language Arts 2X

    June 2000


    Hyper, happy, helpful, harried

    Sibling of too many to count

    Lover of life

    Who feels like singing and dancing

    Who wishes life was perfect

    Who needs people to love her

    Who loves helping others

    Who would like to see His Kingdom come

    Resident of her own little world


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    Doing what I can


    Being the best I know how to be.

    Bawling sometimes when I fail.

    Imagining how things could be.

    Expecting even less.

    Definitely different.

    Aspiring to do well.

    Reaching out to those around me.

    Really trying.

    Outgoing, and sometimes outlandish

    Working hard to please others.

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    If I wereÖ

    If I were a color, Iíd be sunshine yellow because itís energetic and happy and it always brightens the day.

    If I were a season, Iíd be spring because itís awakening and changing and full of life.

    If I were a day of the week, Iíd be Sunday because itís a new beginning and a time to relax.

    If I were a country, Iíd be Cuba because everyone has heard of it, but very few people know what itís like inside.

    If I were a musical instrument, Iíd be a piano because Iíll work for you if you push me hard enough, but Iíll work better if you use a gentle touch.

    If I were a piece of fruit, Iíd be a pineapple because itís distinctive and sharp on the outside, but soft on the inside.

    If I were a dessert, Iíd be jello because Iím solidly fluid and easily moved.

    If I were a number, Iíd be 50 because Iím a couple cards short of a full deck.

    If I were a shoe, Iíd be a leather boot because itís tough and flexible and goes everywhere you want it to.

    If I were a feeling, Iíd be confusion because thatís what I cause in others.

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    The Unrelenting

    I am pure energy

    I am gusts of wind

    I am lightning bolts.

    I have countless forms

    I am everywhere at every time

    I have no rest.

    I have no ending

    I live in everyone

    I am surging adrenaline.

    I am the spotted cheetah

    Running and running at unsurpassable speeds.

    I am the trampled trail.

    I am a tornado

    That will feed off everything in its path.

    I am a mirage

    That is always in sight but out of reach.

    I am a runaway

    Who must keep on going to get away from it all.

    I am the reporter

    Who keeps their eyes and ears forever open.

    I am a shooting star

    Traveling in a new direction.

    I am the blazing sun

    Brightening the day

    To keep out the night.

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    This is the house where I live. This is where I hide in my room when I have nowhere else to go. This is where I cry under the covers when everything in life is going badly. This is where I let everything hang out because no one cares and no one notices And you can hear children screaming And see chaos reigning

    And feel at home

    And somebody cares.
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    Where Iím From

    I am from computers,

    from pocket protectors and zip drives.

    I am from the grass in the back yard.

    (Green, growing,

    almost as tall as I was.)

    I am from the rose bush and the lilac tree,

    the maple and crab apple trees

    that bear the scars

    of many children.

    Iím from pizza and newspapers,

    from Zora and John.

    Iím from the Shh! donít tells

    and the Mom, Iím telling,

    from stand still and quiet down.

    Iím from Amazing Grace

    with a game and a snack

    and a sticker for being on time.

    Iím from David Williams and McDonaldís,

    french fries and Coca-Cola.

    From my fatherís failing health

    to my brothers bumps and bruises.

    In my room was drawers filled with junk

    bursting with old papers,

    bringing back memories

    of days not so long ago.

    I am from those moments-

    gone before they were realized-

    carrying on the legacy.

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    I wishÖ

    I wish

    I had a place to escape

    from anything and everything

    that life throws in my way.

    I wish

    I were a wife and mother

    with kids of my own

    to hug and to love

    and to kiss goodnight.

    I wish

    I didnít have to wake up each day

    and face the trials and troubles

    of a brand new start.

    I wish

    I could be the perfect everything

    that everyone seems to want

    and everyone seems to expect.

    I wish

    I had all it takes

    to be all you can be

    and all you should be.

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    My Father After Work

    Shutting off the lights

    I think of my father snoring

    underneath the covers of his bed,

    his slippers sitting beside the nightstand

    on the floor, his robe

    hanging on the edge of the door,

    his bare feet sticking out into the air,

    and his face etched with

    the worries of the day.

    Shutting off the lights

    I think of summer, when daylight

    lasted past supper time

    and child and father played

    in the warm glow of the

    7 Oíclock sunshine,

    coming in with red face

    and weary limbs, and eating

    a not-so-peaceful dinner.

    Shutting off the lights

    I think of when it will all be over

    and child becomes adult

    and father is no longer with us,

    and I watch from the doorway

    to see his stomach move up and down

    and I am relieved because he is breathing

    and he is alive.

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    The Heroes

    They bravely fight the most difficult battle imaginable,

    In which the lines of victory and failure are vague.

    The enemy is powerfully menacing,

    Its evils unparalleled in potential malevolence.

    No king will knight the heroes in royal glory.

    No throngs will shout their praises.

    They strive against the evils of ignorance,

    The damaging demons of low esteem and apathy.

    Hours are spent with very little gained,

    Only enough to start again the next day.

    They face the enemy with little more than they have,

    Their biggest weapon is pure determination.

    They are alone in their efforts,

    No one shouts their coming or fears their return.

    They battle in silence, through anger and frustration,

    Wondering if they ever will receive the respect they deserve.

    It comes as a simple "Thank You," an "I get it!" and a grin,

    Itís hard to recognize unless heard with a heroís ears.

    There are always battles left to be fought

    Each a small victory against the war.

    They press on when others fall back,

    They do not give up so easily.

    In the end, the battle is not only for them,

    It is for the future and its success.

    It is a battle only teachers will fight.

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    My best friend

    Clutches me to his side

    On the streets and everywhere

    Everytime we see each other

    He wants to show me how much I mean to him

    Baby Andrew

    Grins at me bashfully

    From behind the pews

    Wednesday nights at Church

    To let me know itís time to play

    The science teacher

    Smacks his yardstick against the trash can

    In our classroom, Room 404

    Anytime we talk

    He wants to show us who is boss

    My little brother

    Rides his brand new bike

    Up and down the street in front of our house

    Every time he has a chance

    He wants to be like all the other kids

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    The Five Senses

    Love is the color of sunshine

    It sounds like a gentle whisper

    It tastes like lemonade on a hot day

    It smells like freshly baked cookies

    It feels like a motherís embrace

    It makes you feel special

    Despair is the color of midnight

    It sounds like the howling of wolves

    It tastes like water from a puddle

    It smells like blood, sweat, and tears

    It looks like the edge of a cliff

    It makes you feel like ending it all

    Beauty is the color of dawn

    It sounds like a calming rain

    It tastes like fresh summer berries

    It smells like roses and daffodils

    It looks like a mural of life

    It makes you feel wonderful

    Envy is the color of spinach

    It sounds like the whines of a child

    It tastes like curdled milk

    It smells like a litter box

    It looks like police lineup

    It makes you feel guilty

    Happiness is the color of lilacs

    It sounds like a sweet lullaby

    It tastes like fresh-squeezed orange juice

    It smells like a summerís day

    It looks like a new beginning

    It makes you feel warm in and out

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    Ants marching along

    Like a tiny infantry

    To the battle field.

    Flowers bloom outside

    Like a rainbow on the ground

    Brightening the day.

    Waves crash into rocks

    Like the cymbals of a band

    Making seaside songs.

    Rain falls gently down

    Like the spray of an orca

    Cooling off the day.

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    A Simple Ring

    A symbol of something,

    A promise for the future;

    Of love and life,

    And other things to come.

    A circle unbroken that stands

    For today and tomorrow.

    For faith and freedom,

    And all that one must overcome.

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    My Bed

    At times there is nothing one can do

    To escape the ways and worries of the world.

    The sun rises and lights up the sky

    While people close their eyes and hide from the day.

    Beneath their blanket huddled, their only comfort is found

    In the peace and serenity around them.

    A secret retreat for the worn and weary,

    A place of warmth and security to rest their heads,

    A place where every emotion is welcome.

    A feeling of gladness, a sigh of relief

    As another day passes without incident.

    A place to shed their tears and their sorrows

    And something to hold on to when all goes wrong.

    Every night and day it is there

    For anyone who seeks its shelter.

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    Ode to Dr Pepper

    What would I do

    Without the energy

    And excitement it brings to my life?

    Sleepily, sluggishly Iíd go through my days.

    Every waking moment would be spent

    Keeping me from dozing off again.

    A life lived unconsciously,

    Aware of all, but understanding little

    Is no way to live, I guarantee.

    This drink is meant to keep me awake,

    Alert and aware of all that surrounds me.

    It is my escape,

    From normalcy and nothing else.

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    loyal, trustworthy

    loving, laughing, living

    old, new, beloved, forever

    fighting, crying, dying

    hateful, suspicious



    Parents, Children, Spouses

    Their love is unconditional


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    A Gift For You

    If I could give you anything that money could not buy

    I would give you a golden sunrise

    to light all the dark corners of your life

    I would give you a calming breeze

    to relieve your troubles and strife

    I would give you the birds in the sky

    to fill your heart with song

    I would give you a warm, gentle rain

    to wash away all that is wrong

    I would give you the moon and the stars

    to grant you your every desire

    Because you have all of my love.

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