A crisp chill rustles dead leaves Crunch crunch down the sidewalk The sky is gray and dreary The ground is hard and cold Spring has left the flowered throne All is quiet, still as stone The birds moved on long ago Even stubborn Autumn left to find a warmer home Here land sits in Winter’s grasp No light No life No warmth
A smell on the wind of burning wood A sign to follow it home A cozy chair by the hearth Scares the chill from bones Dreams of hot chocolate and warm gingerbread Hurry feet down the drive Through an oaken door To a home warm and alive Shed: Coat Gloves Hat Sweater Boots In favor of your blanket The chill recedes… I am Curled up with a book by the fire.
Life...Our existence will soon fade away Your beliefs will not when weigh in the end It does not matter who you will betray All of your sins...Will you need to amend?
Happiness...it does not always flourish What will bring you your needed salvation? Seeing that child live life malnourished And all you do is give a donation
Peace...when war and violence surrounds us When so many people die everyday There is nothing left for there to be blessed It goes until nothing is left to slay
When the end comes it will not be ideal This life that we live, is it in fact real?
By Brooke Ford
"Summer" Winning Poem 2009
Walking up at half past ten to the smell of fresh blueberry pancakes.
Hiking through the deep green woods with the trees swaying in a gentle breeze
Lying face down on a fluffy blue towel surrounded by sand as the sun warms Your nearly naked back
Swimming, Running, and Riding your bike down long dusty roads And Most of all: Wasting Time Summer Summer is doing Everything and Nothing at the Same Time Do not focus on Becoming but Simply Be Love By Margo Grills