night

Night, knight, lit by a bright light.

She comes awake, not quite too soon,
and throws her blue silk
all the way up high.

She spins across the silver moon
And giggles as she throws
the stars into the sky.
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This poem came from the "and giggles as she throws/ the stars into the sky" line. I'm not sure about the first stanza, so any comments/help would be appreciated! Thanks!

The Deep of the Night

Late at night I lie in my bed.
Tossing and turning, I can’t fall asleep.
I hear all different sounds like
the wind howling to the big bright moon,
crickets chirping their sweet lullaby,
the river moving over, under, and around the rocks.
The many wind chimes in my room play throughout the night.
I shut my eyes and count to fifty.
But I can’t fall asleep, not just yet.
I open my eyes, everything’s dark.
Then I look out my window,
and the moon’s shining shadows fall everywhere.
The stars glisten in the light of the moon,
not moving just staying still.
Then I close my eyes one last time
and I fall into a deep sleep.

~Emily Reagan~

Perfect snow day
Kyle Fowler

The end of a long school day and I can’t focus on what the teacher is saying, my mind is off in the woods on my sled. Going of the fresh snow, in open fields. I hear the bell and in was exited to go home and sit on the cold seat of my sled. Tonight is the first night the trails open.
This was also only my second year on my machine; my dad got me into snow machining. I and he both decided to go out this Friday because the trails would be untouched and the powder would still be fresh. The riding is best when all the powder is fresh. It allows you to just glide over the snow and not have to worry about tough spots.

I ran through the woods,
Heart pounding,
Breath burning the
Lungs.

Darkened branches
Reached through
Stiffened air.
Their grasp of
Knobby twigs
Growing
Ever
Closer.

My eyes dodged
Left and
Right,
Right
And left.
My heart mimicked the sound of
An old junk-bucket
Careening down a washboard
Dirt road.
The crunch of gravel
Embodied by my
Scratchy
Breaths.
Bunches of stones in
Raspy waves
Of icy air.

Every pound
Of my soles
On the
Sturdy,
Cold
Ground,
Freckled with
Amber leaves,
Sent shock waves through
My legs,
And blasts through
My bones.

Spider's
Silver
Silk
Suspended
In the midnight
Air;
Harboring the
Hollow carcass shells
Of victimized
Insects.
Gleaming eyes of
Black depths
Followed my every turn.

I thought of the
Beast.
Behind
Me.
Mocking me by
Mirroring
My every
Move of a
Muscle.
It remained concealed
In the darkness.

Its claws and teeth
Unsheathed.
Its mouth drooling
At the thought of blood.

its two-thirty, am. I can't sleep. I roll over and curse at the clock and flop back down in a heap of hot blankets. After a few minutes of daydreaming,a noise, just out side my window gives me a slight tug into reality, then a louder noise, makes me stiffen in my bed. out side my window, under the deck i can hear the ladder shake, and soft thumps on the dirt.
Robber? Murderer? Creep? Drunk? Animal? Bear? Dog? I thought feeling a tingle shiver down my spine. Its quiet now, but then- another, louder shake. I'am scared. In a flash I leap out of my bed, turn on my light- all of my lights, and run for the bathroom to take a shower, and hope that it was just the lack of sleep.

at night is when the thoughts come and bother,
they float around in my head.
what if we saw in negatives instead?
we would blunder through the rooms
avoiding the dark shapes that will hurt us
cause us to trip and stumble.
what if night was everyday?
would it really make a difference?
don't we always see in negatives?

At night is when the thoughts come in twisted.
what is that on my pillow?
what if this is our only time to reflect,
and our dreams are telling us what we havn't come to terms with yet?
sae my fish off the totem pole
why are you always plugged in?
the dinasour ate my eye.
a dream of you, how did you take so much to hurt me for so long?

At night is when the truth comes out harsh.
how do we fix our hurt?
we control it, if not mentally, then physically?
in words? In anger? In trail mix? in silver?
silver, of course the controlled pain.
th hurt with the silver lining.
the control. pain is silver.
shiny and runny like mercury.

Full Moon

By Jamie Benson
Crossett Brook Middle School, Grade 7

A shaft of moonlight seeps through your window and rests on your pillow.

You check your clock, 12:00, you try to sleep but you can't.

You look out your window at the cool night.

The moonlight on the driveway, as puddles of shadow, endless.

Sections of sky woven seamlessly together.

It makes you wonder... . Why.

And in that moment your head rests on your pillow and your imagination soars.

Sing to me of endless whispers
Let their words snake through my ears
Would that I could understand their meaning
If only they were constructed on sense

Write to me of endless nights
Let the stars burn through to my soul
Would that they would sparkle forever
If only they would remember me

Hum to me of endless summers
Let the sun warm me through my skin
Would that the air was always as fresh
If only the sky were always as blue

Speak to me of endless friendship
Let the bond be shared between hearts
Would that the mind would always stay calm
If only life were always as pure

Sing to me, write to me, hum to me, speak to me
Of endless whispers, endless nights, endless summers, endless friendship
Would that they will continue forever
If only they will remain the same

Another day done. I think as I step out of my little red car. I finally arrived home from a very long and busy day.

Many a night
has been spent
staying up
later than I probably should
having exceedingly random
conversations with you.

Conversations
about anything
and everything.

I'm going to miss that.

I'm going to miss you.

Oyasumi Nasai.

It’s been a long time
Since I have seen his dark curly hair,
Like a river of onyx
It surrounds the glowing boulders of his eyes.
They look as if they are two black holes,
Dragging in everything that happens
Around him,
And to him.
His silence fills a room,
And his presents can be felt in even the
Noisiest
And busiest room.
He’s like a ghost in the night,
Wandering and watching,

this poem is called

walk the night

i walk the night of my dreams
my thoughts
my home
my streets
paved with secrets yet untold
music sends me which way
on my darkened path
i walk no friends to talk to
the stars my only companion
they tell me things of what they watch
they watch and stair while i'm running with care
the stars see things unknown to me

I have finally managed
To stop the day
From ever coming
No one will disturb us
My sweet, eternal night
Our beautiful moon
Will never leave us
The way it shines
And makes everytthing look
So beautiful
No one will disturb me
From this tranquility
So sleep on
Foolish mortals
Because you will never
Awaken

Darkness... That’s what filled Alex’s room as he opened his eyes. The only light came from the faint glow of a street lamp down the street. The next thing he realized was that he was drenched in sweat. Looked like another 90 degree night. The air was still, despite the small fan producing a faint hum in the corner. Alex had never been able to sleep peacefully in hot weather.