Poetry about The Dust Bowl

Poetry about The Dust Bowl

Dustbowl Days by Nicole S. Porter Handkerchief to nose, I cross these dusty streets the wind whipping my gingham dress around my legs. My son carries his frosty bottle of orange Nehi pop while my daughter hugs her dolly close to her chest. We struggle, nomads fighting the swirling whorls of sand trying to keep the dust out of our eyes. When the wind settles again I can see the barren lands surrounding our tiny town - Hopeful skeletons. The farmers playing checkers in front of the gas station grumble about the price of corn and their souls. Porter, Nicole. Dustbowl Days. The Dust Bowl. 2003. Web. 2 December 2010.   Where you can buy this poem: http://www.themagicwords.com                 Leaving the Dust Bowl By: Bob Bradshaw   Our house poked between the sand dunes like a half-buried shrimp boat. Sand leaned against the tops of fences. We turned our plates on the dinner table upside down and covered the baby's crib with a wet sheet at night to keep her from breathing grit. Dust pneumonia was as common as rash and bankrupt farms. It's time to leave, Mother, I said. We gave our land to the bank. We gave our mule to Jordon, who took on the burden of trying to feed it. Don't worry, Mother. California is like a big green harbor waiting for us. Mother nodded. We tied on the beds and furniture and cooking pans and threw in the kids out of sentimental reasons and pointed the car west. Bradshaw, Bob. Leaving The Dust Bowl. Prairie Poetry. 2004. Web. 2 December 2010.
ThoseTerribleDustBowlDays       It took place back in the 1930s And it was called the dust bowl days Folks tried to scrape out a living As dust storms left their world in a haze There was a drought in Oklahoma Dust storms took over their home No food or jobs could be found They had to pack up and begin to roam They couldn’t seal their homes enough The dust continued to sift through Can you just imagine what it would be like If this were to happen to you? Some starved and froze in the winter Folks lost new babies in the cold It was a nightmarish time Such sad stories later were told It is almost impossible to imagine It continues today to amaze Thinking about what folks went through In those terrible dust bowl days! By:MarilynLott Lott.Marilyn.ThoseTerribleDustBowlDays.PoemHunter.2008.Web.21December2010.             Dust Bowl Dust! rolling, blinding, dirty, grinding, Dust! It swirls around, along the ground, then In the air, it isn't fair! It howls and groans, It squeals and moans, It gets in everywhere. It finds each hole, And every bowl, And fills them all with glee. Through doors, On floors, On every book and chair. It stings! It clings! Then leaves behind Despair! Dust everywhere. But, Clean it up, Wash every cup, Polish floors, Shine doors, Clean up this cursed stuff. Now! That will do, Just like new, But! Look outside! No, no, don't hide, It's just More dust! Rolling, blinding, dirty, grinding, Dust! Stella P. Bell
Bell.P.Stella.DustBowl.AstralianTales.2008.Web.22December2010.

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