week19-08

Chelsea Wait, a senior at Spaulding High School, has this to say about her photograph: "Ingrid is unlike any child I’ve ever met. She is a 2-and-1/2-year-old that lives in an orphanage in Guatemala City, Guatemala. Old burn marks and scars line her small, chubby arms and legs, but her face is untouched, delicate and beautiful. Ingrid already has an issue with the world. She frequently cries, throws fits and acts out. Still, it’s impossible to ignore her charm and spirit. Once you’ve proved yourself to her, Ingrid will love you no matter what. Her rare smiles will melt your heart, and her hugs will convey all that her young mind can not yet form in words. Despite the rages, fits and fights, Ingrid is a beautiful little girl that I will never forget.

Do you have a photo or piece of artwork you want to publish? Click "PUBLISH" and "Submit Art" above for more.

On Eloquence

By W.T. Smith
Hanover High School, Grade 11

What would we give for eloquence?
Would we change what we had to say?
What did we do with innocence?
Did we lose it along the way?

How many times are decisions made
By the words that we know how to use?
And how often do we give our dreams away
Because we have to choose?

So if you speak a different tongue,

Backyard

By Jen Mariotti
Hartford Memorial Middle School, Grade 8

I walk into my backyard. Look around to see the damage. There, here, everywhere, there are trees blown down. I think that is our neighbor’s car up in our room. We did not know it was coming.

Backyard

By Ossia Dwyer
Hartford Memorial Middle School, Grade 7

The backyard is a mysterious place
And that is where I found the case.
It said open in fifteen years,
I wanted to be able to go near.
Things from the past that historians overlooked,
Things that you can’t find in a book.
Personal memories all locked away,
And put in my backyard because they knew it would stay

My Grandparent's Backyard

By Sierra Varela
Hartford Memorial Middle School, Grade 7

It’s a big time memory
Up until the age of five
Until they moved, somewhere else nearby
Was in my Grandma’s backyard.

Where there was a small fenced yard,
With a little pretty garden,
And a baby pool just for me.
Where I would cruise in my little brown toy car,
All around in the yard,
And think I was so sweet.

Rolling around in the snow,
Until my toes turned pink.
Catching snowflakes in my mouth.
Where I would eat my peanut butter and jelly fish sandwich,
In my amazing Barbie Girl chair.
When one day they moved,
Somewhere nearby,
In a place where the backyard was all red dirt,
And nasty bugs walked by.

I miss her house,
Where I used to play,
In the little fenced backyard,
Where I would cruise all day.
It’s a big time memory,
And I will never forget,
The little fenced yard,
That killed my pet.
(It was an imaginary pet, so do not fret.)

The Backyard of a Farm

By Emily Fariel
Hartford Memorial Middle School, Grade 8

A backyard is not just grass.
It’s the place where I rode my bike and the chain came off.
Where my sister and I played hide and seek, in the surrounding woods.
Where our garden grew most of the vegetables we ate.
Where we picked wild strawberries, and attempted to make jam.

The Forest in My Backyard

By Miles Latham
Hartford Memorial Middle School, Grade 8

The meadows dance in the wind.
The pines in the forest groan.
The snow gently glides to earth.
The moon casts white shadows through the trees.

As I continue to write by just the moonlight,
I sense the evening chill.

A Walk In My Backyard

By Sofia Collas
Ferrisburgh Central School, Grade 3

In my backyard
I hear the creek
Rushing through
The rocks,
I see my
Dog’s tiny footprints
Deep in the first snow
They go
Straight to
An Oak tree
Out of
Nowhere
My dog
Comes running
Fast
Like a cheetah!
He is
White like
The snow,
Brown like
Chocolate, and
Black like
The night sky
Then I
Look up and
I see
A black
Crow flying
In the sky

I look
At the creek
A duck is
Swimming
I can
Not make
Out the
Type of
Duck
with
Colors of
Green, brown
And orange
Cold, I head
Inside with
My dog
Bounding behind me.

Night Lights

By Zeb Dartt
Ferrisburgh Central School, Grade 3

In my back yard
A tree lights up.
Mom has finally
Put up some Christmas
Lights!
The snow sparkles
Around the tree,
Blue, green and red
Light floods the night
Like fire flies
On a summer night,
he wind makes them
Rustle like
Leaves in fall.

We Lay

By Katherine DiBella
Woodstock Union High School, Grade 10

So still,
Heads touching,
Fingertips spread far far apart,
Blades of grass licked our skin,
So still,
Feeling the earth sink into our skin,
Floating gently,
Swaying back and forth but so quietly,
The earth rocking us,
We are its children,
Making our roots grab deep into the ground,
Eyes held tight,

The Snow

By Lindsay Andersen
Ferrisburgh Central School, Grade 3

In the backyard
The snow falls
From the sky.
I lay down
And watch
As snowflakes fall.
They’re like crystals
Falling from the sky.
Something moves
Out of the woods.
A rabbit,
as white as the snow.
The snow falls
All day
While I watch
With that rabbit.

Weightless

By Blaise Gervais
Burlington High School, Grade 9

The drops slide down my body
Salt mingling with the pure, honest streams of life
They weave together sliding over the scars,
Of sorrow imprinted on my skin,
Washing away the blemishes
of guilt and regret.

As the water slithers
Like silvery snakes through my scalp
It tickles the nape of my neck

This is a Place

By Greg Goedewaagen
Woodstock Union High School, Grade 10

In the backyard there are many things,
things that are there now,
and things that once were.
Memories of blue and orange slides,
faded from the sun, memories of crawling
beneath a picnic table, or climbing a tree,
just to hide from everyone.

Winterview

By Bridget Iverson
Mount Mansfield Union High School, Grade 9

Cold glistens soft azure high
A gleaming blue that sucks the eye.
Land sucks his frozen breath in
To stretch clouds wispy in the wind.
Closer slumbering hills lie
Trees shoulder loads of snow nearby.
Prints betray where I have been
Through dried beige stalks and their brown kin.