Leland and Gray

Black

By Megan Carey
Leland and Gray Union High School, Grade 9

Black
Is the midnight sky
A stormy night
A black cat
Sad as a depressing story
Delicious dark chocolate.

I like to think

By Karlie Kauffeld
Leland and Gray Union High School, Grade 11

It seems like only yesterday
that we were driving through town
to see the latest movie
going out to eat
taking on the 17-scoop ice cream
playing in the fountain on the common
making earrings
making friends
making wishes
gossiping
complaining
crying
laughing
smiling
loving.
And now
you're leaving.
Your time has come
this part of your life is over.
I fall into the chunk of memories
labeled,
"high school past times."
I am trying to be OK with that
but you know I'll miss you.
Nothing will be the same.
different gossiping, different complaining and crying.
Different laughing, smiling and story telling.
but I like to think
that I helped you get through
those teenage years that our parents
have grown to dread.
I like to think
that I've helped shape who you are today
in that silly gown
shaking hands
hugging family
I like to think

Where I am From

By Sarah Seaton
Leland and Gray Union High School, Grade 9

I’m from a tiny town, Dover
Walking distance to my elementary school
Where I had my first kiss and where I played in my first soccer game
I’m from a 200 year old yellow farmhouse overlooking the mountains
With a field full of horses across the street

I'm from dirt roads
and they way they feel on my bare toes.
From freezing rivers to swim in in the summers
and iced over ponds to skate on in the winter.

I'm from my three best friends
and our endless hours together.
I'm from the worlds we imagined.

I'm from following my big sister wherever she went
until I couldn't.
I'm from visiting my family in New Jersey,
from loving them

Lasting Evidence

By Melissa Soule
Leland and Gray Union High School, Grade 9

An abandoned home; a heinous crime.
Yet, neither decrepit nor unused,
Still caressed gently by the roiling waves, full of watery passions.

Swiftly tilting spirals dance,
Their patterns dizzy from turning in the sea,
Swinging about in raucous circles.

A hard, pointed pinnacle,

Round in shape
And a point in the center
Of the hypnotizing spiral
Brown spots covering it
With a white base color
Cracked on one side
But it makes me wonder
What lived inside
Although small in size
You can see with the naked eye
A little home in the middle

Round in shape
And a point in the center
Of the hypnotizing spiral
Brown spots covering it
With a white base color
Cracked on one side
But it makes me wonder
What lived inside
Although small in size
You can see with the naked eye
A little home in the middle

Shells

By Michaela Tietz
Leland and Gray Union High School, Grade 9

Spirals of melted color
burst from it's center,
among the twists and
turns of it's shape.
The empty, but most striking
inside, is the evidence that
this was once a house. Over
time, the sea has smoothed
the intricate textures into
waht is now a glassy pink
shine, sheltered by a rough

Inner Tempest

By Melissa Soule
Leland and Gray High School, Grade 9

It whirls within me,
A self-willed beast, devouring my entrails,
Yet I have no wish to stop the pain.
No. I am an indulging and incapable parent to a spoiled child, too fond of their sweets.
Instead of rebelling against this wild animal inside me, I urge it on.
I am the conductor of my own destruction.

Vicious, hard words pummel me,
Driving like lead rain.
Then, heavy, they melt into the skin, binding me in the think chains of doubt and indecision, trying to find truth somewhere along their chafing length.
They grind against my raw skin, and soon drops of blood fall to mix with the salted tears that made that sorrowful decent some time before.

If love is lost or love is won,
Should fate deal joy or sad,
I do not pine, my thoughts; love gone,
Is at least love that was had.

I do not dream in silky rose,
Not blinded by alluring hue.
My love is gnarled and fast as wood,
Too taut and strong for morning's dew.

From fervor fast and swift in kind,
Sweet melody does new love crow.
Through passion's swells, and worry's loft,

Without you, my heart is an empty cavern, bellowing in hunger and pain.
Without you, lead soars on soft wings, and graceful birds plummet to earth.
Without you, elegant prose falls flat, a beautiful tapestry of language; undone.
Without you, the world becomes a ghastly mask, deathly white with sun.
Without you, sweet dreams becomes nightmares, sending fearful tendrils into thought.

Shall I compare thee to a bird
you song so sweet and pure.
You rise early each morning
to enchant our waking time,
your innocent chirps like a chime.
You flit through the sky,
easy and free
never failing to bring joy to me.
There's nothing in you that's been corrupted
your free flight, rarely interrupted.

Love,
like an ocean,
takes control of you completely,
moves you as it wills,
you must sway with it's waves and swells.
The ups and downs,
storms and calms,
crashes and repetition,
of the ocean,
they are so much like life in love.

You cannot float forever
if you let yourself go completely limp.
But if you panic
as the water takes a hold on you
you may disappear in to the blue.

When we first moved into our house in 2004 we have heard from everyone from our naborhood that a woman had gotten murdered from her cereal killer ex husband. I was scared at the thought of the subject. But I did not believe it. The relater told us that nothing like that has ever happened. But I always wanted to know what were the red spilled stains all over the attic floor.

Verse 1.
She cries all alone
When there is no one home
She doesn’t want him to know that she loves him
She's been hurt before
She doesn’t want to be hurt anymore
But she knows that she can’t help that she loves him

Chorus
Somebody loves him
Somebody loves her
They love each other
And they both know it (repeat)

Verse 2.
He is in love with her
He wants to be with her

Your eyes have lost that spark
Don’t leave me, stay
I can’t stand this lonely endless dark

Your words sing to me, a lark
But you don’t hear the things I say
Your eyes have lost that spark

Your boredom leaves me conspicuous, an easy mark
Please, please don’t go away
Can’t stand this lonely, endless dark

A lonely tree without my bark
I faltered and must now, it seems, pay

Flower: A Villanelle

By Sophie Glickman
Leland and Gray High School, Grade 11

Stuck in a bubble of haze
This routine numbs me
Wilted flower in a plastic vase

These halls become a maze
The way through so clear, I can’t see
Stuck in this bubble of haze

Standing in line with red plastic trays
Crowds, noises and smells, now I’m dizzy
Wilted flower in a plastic vase

Friendly, I give and receive praise
But few words really penetrate me
Stuck in a bubble of haze

Laughter comes and goes, frustration stays
Even when I’m fine there’s melancholy
Wilted flower in a plastic vase

I eat the doughnut in its sticky glaze
Thinking of healthier ways to be
I’m stuck in a bubble of haze
A wilted flower in a plastic vase

I’ve missed love’s whisper
Heard its screams, felt its kicks
But I’ve missed subtleties I might have heard

Goals and desires start to blur
But always there’s the clocks tick
Reminding me I’ve missed love’s whisper

Now I must concur
I’m on the outside, it’s an inside trick
I’ve missed subtleties I might have heard

And yes I’m confused, yes it hurts

By Sophie Glickman
Leland and Gray Union High School, Grade 11

Robbie sits outside. His fingers and toes are freezing. Snow has sneaked into his mittens at his wrists and into his boots at their openings, melting and seeping through his socks. The rest of his body, save his red protruding nose, a ski-jump nose, as his mother calls it, is too hot. Perhaps there is such a thing as too many layers? He feels himself sweating, and realizes with a flash of anger, that he no longer wants the hot chocolate he's anticipated devouring on his return inside; his only real motivation to play outside is ruined.

The Dark Side of The Moon

By Lena Glickman
Leland and Gray High School, Grade 9

Autumn
By Lena Glickman

Black and White

By Lena Glickman
Leland and Gray High School, Grade 9

Black and white,
like an old photograph.
Black and white
split me in half.
Happy and clear
I have nothing to fear.
My mind is as white and pure
as the first snowfall of the year.
But sometimes a darkness creeps in
and I can’t help but give in
to loneliness and fright.
Black is a night
when you can't sleep

Even Though I Love You

By Nicole Sherman
Leland and Gray High School, Grade 8

I woke up this morning,
to find that everyone had already left.
I made a cheap breakfast
and got ready for my day.

i washed my hair
even though it was already clean.
i dried my hair
even though it would dry itself.
I put on the mascara that you once liked
even though we don't talk anymore.
i put on the eye-liner that you always hated
just in spite of you....then washed it off for you,
even though you wouldn't look.
i put on the eye-liner you always liked
even though you wouldn't notice
i put on the shirt you got me
then took it off
even though it was my favorite.
i looked in the mirror and smiled.
even though i looked horrible.
i smiled again because you liked my smile,
then frowned
because you wouldn't care anymore.
i sat down and listened to your mix
even though i hate it.
i'm sitting here trying to forget you

Even though I Love You

The Willow Weeps

By Melissa Soule
Leland and Gray High School, Grade 9

Sweeping, swaying skirts of pale celery brush the ground,
Like a soft sigh in the wind.
Small leaves flutter, silver winking eyes alive with movement.

Graceful arcs form in easy bent boughs,
Reaching like a child to touch their toes,
And gliding down to just kiss the ground.

History on My Palm
My fingertips race with the lifeblood of my soul, sustaining me body and mind.
They bespeak all the glories and hardships of my past,
Telling an imprinted story for one who cares to look.
Fine lines trip along their length, made of delicately raised skin,
Etched so tiny so as to seem smooth,
But mountainous in their worth of memories.

The Broken Promise
Hmmm... Perhaps if she scrunched in her nose more? No, no. That made her look like some crotchety old lady! Well, how about more of the frown...a little less...lower the eyelids a bit...THERE!
“Ye- Oh no.” In her excitement of success Avvy’s recently perfected look of total indifference had slipped into one of elation.

Surrounded by a landscape of death
I take my last breath.
One more gulp of dirty air
before I fall into an eternal sleep.
And now one thing has become clear
nothing is fair.
War has got a hold on me
and doesn't let go.
Sqeezes each drop of life
from my limp body
and failing mind.

Life is like a winding road
No one knows where it will end
or where it will lead
There are bumps and twists and turns
There are smooth spots and spots where you
are uncertain weather or not you will continue.
But in the end life is nothing but a winding road
it will soon be forgotten, and the plants will take over
what was once a winding road and all that is left is

This image was uploaded with the post Last Letter from WWI.