Pickett's Charge

Pickett's Charge

by
Grace Berkheiser
(age 12)

Across that field, across that grass ,

A host, an army, will soon  pass,

And gun and men and battle merge ,

Into what will be known as Pickett's Charge.

Men will walk to their enemy's might,

They will walk to a desperate fight.

Their object is to gain the wall.

They all will fight, and most will fall.

Charge then men over your path.

Charge and face your enemy's wrath.

Do you know that the ground you tread,

Will soon be filled with hosts of dead?

Any man with sense can tell,

You yourselves know all too well,

That in this charge many will fall,

And you may never gain the wall.

However, for your home, your land

You all will charge, this valiant band.

Charge then into the depths of mystery,

Charge, and let the rest be history.

(orginal an unedited)


If you are between the ages of 4-18,
(or know someone who likes to write stories)
I would like to post your story here.
Send me an email. I'd love to read your story!

 Signed,

Wiggles the Polliwog

Winter

(photo by Mid Stutsman)

Winter

by

Grace Berkheiser

Spring melts into summer.

Summer turns into fall.

Fall turns into winter.

It's the coldest of all.

When winter comes we think

Of the cold wind that blows,

Of hot chocolate covered

In floating marshmallows,

Of cardinals in the snow,

And birdseed on the ground,

Glittering frost and snow,

That cover all around.

We like it when it's here,

Though so quickly it goes.

In our memories we see,

Frost and wind and...snows.

(original and unedited)

If you are between the ages of 4-14,
(or know someone who likes to write stories)
I would like to post your story here.
Send me an email. I'd love to read your story!



 Signed,

Wiggles the Polliwog

Beautiful Things

Beautiful Things

by

Grace Berkheiser

No matter  who or where we are there are beautiful things.

Sunrises and sunsets, as they paint the sky with ever varying displays. Combinations of soft  yellow, brooding purple, fiery orange, and brilliant pink.

Water, in its many forms. Majestic, thundering waterfalls, and cheerful, gurgling streams. Tall mountains with snowy white peaks and rocky slopes.

Rainbows, arcs of light and color. All shapes, sizes, and colors of flowers.

 Morning Glories, Roses, Violets, Primroses, and millions of others.

Animals, colorful birds and fish, graceful horses, stately eagles, and much more.

 But greater than all these things is our kind, loving, merciful, God.  Creator of all beautiful things.

If you are between the ages of 4-14,(or know someone who likes to write stories)
I would like to post your story here. Send me an email. I'd love to read your story!

Signed,

Wiggles the Polliwog

I AM A WRITER

I AM A WRITER
by

Grace Berkheiser

(age 13)

Writing is one of my favorite things to do.

Writing gives me the ability to express myself and things around me.

When I write about things, it makes me process facts and ideas over in my mind so I can come up with reliable and interesting statements. Also, writing about something lets me think of ways to describe that thing, bringing out color and meaning.

Writing about things I like gives me the pleasure of thinking about them and bringing out the admirable things in them. This is why I am a writer.

 (original and unedited)

( Lesson Twenty - Mirror, Mirror)

If you are between the ages of 4-14,(or know someone who likes to write stories) I would like to post your story here. Send me an email. I'd love to read your story!

Signed,

Wiggles the Polliwog

Limerick Fun

Here is a collection of limericks,

written by the young people that participated in my writing lessons.

If you would like to know more about this writing course,

(CONTACT ME).

There was a man with a garden,

Before he could plant, the ground hardened

When he tried to dig

The job was too big

So fast to a farmstand he darted.

Zachoia Cooper

Mike stole money from Jerry;

Mike stole money from Perry,

He gasped as soon

As he saw the spanking spoon

And started to run in a hurry.

Phillip Cooper

There was a dog named Flog

He loved to find a log

That rolled around

But none were found

And so he flopped on the ground!

Hope Berkheiser

There once was a teacher who taught,

But never said what she thought.

Is it good or bad,

Happy or sad,

To be like this teacher who taught?

Grace Berkheiser

If you are between the ages of 4-14,(or know someone who likes to write stories)
I would like to post your story here. Send me an email. I'd love to read your story!

Signed,

Wiggles the Polliwog

The Window Seat

The Window Seat

by Grace Berkheiser

(age 11)

This story doesn’t start at the library. It starts at a sewing store. We had gone there to get fabric and other things. Apparently we were not the only ones that needed something. As we stood in line at the checkout counter, we saw one of the workers from the library. She was buying some sort of matting. I thought she was probably buying it for something in her house. 


On our next trip to the library I found out that was not the case. The woman we had seen at the store was working that day. She had seen us at the store and told us what the matting was for. It was for a window seat. 


little later we went over to look at the window seat. From it, you could see into a sort of garden. It was cloudy that day and the garden with its dark green plants, its statue, its position tucked in a corner, and the wind blowing through everything looked a little mysterious. It was a wonderful place and I liked it very much. 


 Lesson Fourteen - Library


If you are between the ages of 4-14,(or know someone who likes to write stories)I would like to post your story here. Send me an email. I'd love to read your story! Signed,

Wiggles the Polliwog

Wake Up With Wings

Wake Up With Wings 

by Grace Berkheiser 

(age 11)

John Jackson woke up just as the sun peeped out over the hills. He yawned and stretched. He thought “I think I’ll go to the window and see if there are any flowers blooming in the garden.” 


So, he got out of bed and went over to the window. But, as he went, he noticed his feet were not on the floor. He had a strange feeling .He felt like he was floating or something. As he went past the mirror he saw something very strange. He had WINGS!!!!!!!! He couldn’t believe his eyes. 


When he went over to the window it was open. He flew out. As he went over the garden he saw that the butterflies were having a party to celebrate springtime. He went down and joined them. Now John had very beautiful wings. They were red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple. He also was very big for a butterfly. And if that didn’t make him look strange enough, he was also wearing dinosaur pajamas. 


All in all he was something the butterflies had never seen the like of. They went over to greet the newcomer.


"Hi," said John. The butterflies waved their wings at him, and he. thinking this was their way of greeting, returned the action.The butterflies then guided him over to a bright red flower. He thought they wanted him to drink the nectar. He couldn't do this, however, since he had no proboscis. 


As he stood there wondering what to do, all of a sudden, the butterflies' outlines started to get blurry. Things started to lose their color and shape. And he heard a Bbbbbrrrriiiinnnnggg!!!! 


He rubbed his eyes and realized he was still in bed. He must have been dreaming!  Looking out the window he saw the beautiful morning outside. As we went to the window to look out he felt strange, like he was floating . . .

(original and unedited)

on Lesson Thirteen - Silly Stuff


If you are between the ages of 4-14,(or know someone who likes to write stories)I would like to post your story here. Send me an email. I'd love to read your story! Signed,

Wiggles the Polliwog

The Hummingbird

The Hummingbird

by 

Grace Berkheiser

(age 11) 

“What would it be like to be a humming bird?” wondered Lilly.

 “I don’t know. I think it would be very busy. Humming birds always seem to always be going a mile a minute,” answered Rose.

“Well, I suppose it would be somewhat busy but, they don’t fly all the time. And I think it must be delightful to fly around and drink sweet nectar from the flowers,” said Lilly.

“Yes, and they are beautiful even if they have to be in the right light for you to see their colors,” agreed Rose.

“But, I think I wouldn’t be a humming bird even if it were possible,” Lilly decided.

“Me neither. I believe it’s much better to be content with what God made you,” Rose said.

(original and unedited)


This story is the homework of the Polliwog Writing Lesson 16 "Let's Talk About It",
where they learned to use dialogue in their writing.

 If you are between the ages of 4-14,(or know someone who likes to write stories)I would like to post your story here. Send me an email. I'd love to read your story!

 Signed,

Wiggles the Polliwog

An Exciting Earthquake

A Exciting Earthquake

by

Grace Berkheiser

(age 10)

There are special moments scattered throughout life, and one of my most exciting moments came on an ordinary day. I was helping my six-year-old brother, J.J, with his math paper. Our dad was sitting across from us at the other end of the table when it began to vibrate.

We thought Dad was shaking the table and he thought that someone might be running down the hall. But by then it wasn’t just the table that was moving. The whole house swayed! My Dad, who’s been in a earthquake before, explained what was going on. The moving and shaking went on for a while, then slowed and stopped.

After the convulsions ended we talked about where we were and what it felt like when the earthquake struck. Maybe you wouldn’t consider this a special day, but it was special for me.


(original and unedited)


If you are between the ages of 4-14,(or know someone who likes to write stories)

I would like to post your story here. Send me an email. I'd love to read your story!

Signed,

Wiggles the Polliwog

The Forest Pool

The Forest Pool

by

Grace Berkheiser

(age 10)

As the sun comes up at morning's dawn,

A mother deer with little fawn

Come to drink at the forest pool

Where the water flows fresh and cool.

Nearby in a tree a robin sings,

Then off he flies on swift little wings.

Close by a squirrel looks and peeps

Out of a tree where at night he sleeps.

A rabbit come, and for a drink, stops,

Then off he goes with many hops.

It's full of life near the forest pool

Where the water flows fresh and cool.

(Original and unedited)

If you are between the ages of 4-14,(or know someone who likes to write stories)I would like to post your story here. Send me an email. I'd love to read your story!

Signed, Wiggles the Polliwog