Poetry Contest



By Alexandra Sherry, 11 years


The mouse scrambles into its hole,

beside the street,

and the lit lamp pole.

As the air begins to chill,

a flock of birds flies overhead,

above the tallest hill.

In a few moments it will be spring,

with budding flowers,

bringing ducks by flipper or wing.

Inside there is a table set for two,

with two hot chocolates,

one for me, one for you!


By Catherine Sherry, 10 years


Buds blossom, sprout up into flowers,

Sunflowers grow till they tower and tower.

Buttercups bloom under the great blue sky,

Watching the clouds go passing by.

Flowers are odd things healthy, but small,

It is a wonder that some survive in Fall!

They bloom and they blossom, they sprout and they grow,

And oh how beautiful from head to toe!


By Lilly Stetina, 11 years


Crunch. Crunch.

Clip. Pull. Tighten.

Reach up.


So high.

Settle onto Honey.

Squeeze my muscles.

Clop. Clop. Clop.

Around and around.

Slow at first.

Faster each time.

Faster. Faster.

Finally ready.

Feel the ground leave her feet.

Swell of my heart.

Over we go.

In the air for just a second.


Again I think.

So practice, practice.

Every week.

This is love.

This is jumping.

The One Thing That Survives

By Addison Burnett, 14 years


The darkness grows, gloomier yet,

The wind howls as though even it

Can sense the world’s pain.

But every in the suffering,

Hope lives on.


Seismic activity rocks Syria,

Disease spread to every corner of the globe.

Unrest thrives in Unkraine,

Chaos in Sudan and Afghanistan.

Yet still,

Hope lives on.


Shattering expectations like fallen glass,

Breaking through silence like a bullhorn,

Scattering darkness like a searchlight.

An anchor in a sea of uncertainty,

Hope conquers fear.


Though we may tremble,

We may shake,

Our nations may grumble and goan

Under the weight of the world,

We will not fall,

We will not break.

Because even then,

Hope lives on.


Even as the world comes tumbling down around us,





By Karlee N. Dyle, 17 years


the time between space and distance

where relativity is reality, and

you are only just a memory

a sacred span to be treasured.


i loved you,

and i lost you

when i sent you up

into the big, great beyond.


and i great up without you,

lived and breathed beyond you

because you were out there,

979 million miles away.


the hundreds of pages

i read about the stars

captivate you, though  you

don’t even know who you are.


but i know you,

and i know us.

and i know of the planets that surround

those observed, written stars.


but though we are known,

time slips through my fingers

just like how you did

not too long ago.


so everyday i’d stare

into that bright blue sky,

and you’d stare back

through the great dark void.


then i got older

while you stayed younger

and i waited and waited, and waited,

until i could hold you again.


but that big blue sky

turned gray like your eyes

and time began to

slip and run away.


then you became a memory,

a placebo of hopes and dreams

and my hands slipped off the paper

writing about distance, space and stars.


By Elisa Wilson, 16 years


Would you rather

   Have the power to

   Fly or

   To be invisible?


Every answer is different,

   But I know mine.

I would choose to fly.

Not because I really want to soar through the sky,

   Or because I don’t want to be


   But because

   In a way,

   I have already mastered

   The art

   Of invisibility,

   Though I did not choose to.


No one sees me.

They do not even notice that

I exist

When I fall down the stairs.

I am an ant, stepped on but unnoticed.

Not a laugh,

   Or any acknowledgement

   Of me

   Escapes from them,


   In that case,

   Is when it is good to be invisible –

   Like a mouse hiding from a snake.

But when I speak,

   No one hears my lost words,

   A howling wind that dies

   Before it can be felt on their faces.

And if they do listen to my wasted breath,

   They shrug what I wish to share


   As if I am non-existent.

Those are times

   When I wish I was not seen

   As invisible.


Though I am not physically

   Unable to be seen,

   I am invisible as a person.

My life,

   My thoughts.

   My poetry,

      Go unseen, unheard.

Yet when I try

   To make myself visible,

   My efforts are pointless.

   They avail to nothing.


Would you rather

   Have the power to

   Fly or

   To be invisible?


Maybe I would choose invisibility,

   So I never have the chance to fail

   At being seen again.

I’m not who I’m supposed to be

By Artavia Bean, 27 years


I hate that I am living in a world

that gives more hate than love,

that bullies you

for not being perfect,

for not being a certain color,

for not being a certain shape,

for not acting the way majority does.


My life is so sheltered

I’m twisted up in so much fear

my heart beats quicker than it should,

my mind races faster

than they speed of light,

Who am i

if I can’t truly be me?

Why am I here

if I can’t truly by me?


I wish things could be different.

I want to be free.

I want to be opened.

I want to have a voice.

I want to have a true choice.

I want to dream big

and let those dreams become

my reality.


But I can’t do that

because my heart

it won’t allow me

it cannot tolerate

The hate.

The bullying.

The judging.

The mocking.

The pointing.

The words.

The stares.

The everything,

that stops me

from me, being me.

The Silent Side of Nature

By John “Arky” Leonard, 70 years


I saw a leaf fall from a tree,

It fluttered to the ground.

It landed in the arms of grass

And didn’t make a sound.

I saw a hawk fly overhead,

It flew from tree to tree.

It looked around for tasty prey

And did so silently.

I saw the sun rise in the sky,

Its light shone all a4round.

It traveled on its daily path

And didn’t make a sound.

I saw the moon come out at night,

Its wonder did astound.

It helped dispel the dark of night

While making not a sound.

Then suddenly the stars appeared

And oh, did they abound.

They filled the sky from end to end

And never made a sound.

While nature may at times be harsh

We take it all in stride.

For all that it may throw our way

It has its quiet side.

Radiating Thoughts

By Shannon Morgan, 50 years


Try to lay still.

Breathe calm and steady.

Resist the urge

To cough or sneeze or scream.

The lights go out

And the machine begins.

Its whirs and beeps,

So scary at first

Now soothe me like a box fan.

My thoughts wander.

Do my kids need lunch money?

I need to call my sister back.

My breast hurts.

I think I will do pizza for dinner


How much longer?

My nose itches.

I will it away.

I need to teach my children

To do laundry,

Make dinner,

Pay a bill,

Drive a car,

Live their lives fully.

My breast hurts.

All my thoughts radiate from there now.