Emily Patch

So alike
Yet so apart
Like white and black
Or light and dark

Short and tall
But still the same
Double scholars
Sun and Rain

Little Sun
Loves the bright
Skipping like
A bird in flight

Majestic Rain
Enjoys the night
Filled with all
Of a wolf’s might

Sun and Rain
Wolf and bird
Separate stories
But the exact same word

Simple Pleasures of a Snowman

By Emily Patch,
Rutland High School, Grade 12

I don’t really mind
Standing here for a while
Because when people go by
They usually smile

That makes me happy

I like the sun, surprisingly
But only on the coldest days
And the beauty of the clear nights
Can put anyone in a daze

I enjoy that

And when the snowflakes fall
I try to watch every one
I might get a new friend soon
Wouldn’t that be fun?

The thought makes me smile

And when the days get longer
And the nights get warmer
I realize that my time is coming to an end
But my life has been worth its weight in gold

I will melt a happy man

Twinkle twinkle satellite
Flying in the starlit night
Across the sky and Milky Way
But unseen during the day
Flying like a shooting star
Coming near and going far
I’ll make a wish on you tonight
During your celestial flight

I ran through the woods
Carefully dodging the branches
Trying not to snap twigs
Trying not to make a noise

I ran as the fog
Was slowly settling in
And the beasts of the night
Were opening their eyes

I had to get back home
To my hole in the ground
Before the lone wolf
Cried its solemn cry

I had to get home
Before the owl took flight
And silently watched
For any sign of life

I finally got home
As the moon began to rise
Lighting the dark sky
Casting shadows in the night

And I got home just in time
For outside I heard steps
Large and lumbering
A hunter in the night

Locker 218. You hear people talk about it the moment you walk in the door as a freshman. No one wants to be assigned that locker. There’s a curse on it they say, and if you get assigned that locker, you will have horrible bad luck and failing grades for the rest of your life. This year, I was the lucky student assigned locker 218.
“Ari!” I cried to my best friend. “What do I do? I have locker 218!”
“I don’t know. Do you even believe the stories?” she replied.
“How do you explain the valedictorian dropping to the bottom 10 percent of the class in a single semester last year? He had this locker!”
“Right… I forgot about that. So what do you think you are going to do?” she asked methodically putting her books in her locker.
“I have no idea, but I have to break the curse.”

A Dilly of a Dolly

By Emily Patch
Rutland High School, Grade 11

It was a long and tiring night. My mom and I were coming home from a long day at school or in her case work. Our home was being remodeled and the carpets were all up in our living room. All of the furniture was taken out of the living room in anticipation for the new wood floor, and all that remained was plywood for flooring. There was one thing in that room though; a bright red furniture dolly.
The little distraction of the red coming in the door gave me what I thought would be a good idea. I put down my jacket and ran up to it calling my mom over.

Excuses Never Work

By Emily Patch
Rutland High School, Grade 11

“Do you have you homework?” the teacher asked in an aggravated voice.
“Um… My homework?” I repeated trying to take up some time so I could come up with a story.
“Yes, your homework. Do you have it or do you not?”
“Well, you see, I did my homework, but,” I started my story. “I went to my grandma’s house and decided to do my homework at the picnic table.”
“Don’t tell me that it got blown off by the wind.”
“No… My grandma went to the store to get some food for the goat. The goat was so hungry that it chewed through the fencing and got out.”
“And then it ate your homework?”
“No. The fence was electric fencing and it touched the wood. After a while, the wood got so hot that it caught the goat house caught on fire. The picnic table was right near the fire so…”
“So your homework caught on fire?” she asked uninterested.

Tu es le fleur de mon Coeur,
Un oiseau dans une arbre,
Une étoile dans le ciel,
Et un feuille en octobre.
Tu es le neige dans le nuit,
Et l’eau dans la pluie.
Tu es mon monde,
Ma vie,
Tu es mon tout.

You say that your love has dissipated.
Love doesn’t dissipate,
It migrates,
From one,
to one,
to one.
Love can’t go
From one to none.
That would mean that there is a time without love.
That isn’t right
Because my sight,
My world,
My life,
Are all filled with love,
Just not yours.
So when you say your love has gone,
You’re wrong.
Your love has just moved from me

Love's Thief

By Emily Patch
Rutland High School, Grade 11

Is stealing a heart considered a crime?
A felony where you must do your time?
I think so, but I don’t know
Because you have stolen mine,
But I don’t mind
Because…

Chorus:
You are love’s thief,
A man paid by Cupid.
You do his dirty work,
And you do it with a smirk
You steal a girl’s heart.
Don’t deny it.
You just did.

You’ve stolen my heart and many before.
When you look at a girl, you keep her asking for more.
You know what you do.
You are the General of Love’s war
And advance through love’s door
Because…

Chorus:
You are love’s thief,
A man paid by Cupid.
You do his dirty work,
And you do it with a smirk
You steal a girl’s heart.
Don’t deny it.
You just did.

Do you ever give a girl anything she wants,
Or do you just smile and let your memory haunt?
Keep my heart for yourself;
Don’t succumb to Cupid’s taunts.
Can you do that or can you not?
Because …

Chorus:
You are love’s thief,
A man paid by Cupid.
You do his dirty work,
And you do it with a smirk
You steal a girl’s heart.
Don’t deny it.
You just did.

Today you came up to me and said that you quit.
I didn’t know what you meant, but you said, “Sit.
The last heart I stole,” he said
“I couldn’t let Cupid have it
I kept it for myself
Because…

Chorus:
I am love’s thief,
No longer paid by Cupid.
I have kept the loot
And put away his suit.
I have stolen your heart,
But have given you mine.
And I am glad that I did."

A Day in the Life of a Farmer

By Emily Patch
Rutland High School, Grade 11

You rise before the sun comes up
And go for a walk to the barn.
You turn on all of the bare, dim lights
And get ready to take care of the farm.

The cats scurry as you walk by
And the cows impatiently moo.
You let the majority out to the field
But there’s still a lot to do.

The manure must all be cleaned out
And the calves must be fed.
The water must also be clean
And you do all of that without a word said.

Finally it’s time for the cows to come in
From the pasture where they grazed.
They blink when they walk into the dark
And seem almost dazed.

Now it’s time for the biggest job
It’s time to milk the cows.
You wait a minute for your daughter to arrive
Because she wanted to learn how.

When she gets there, you walk to the first
And proceed to clean the udder.
When that is done, you put the milk machine on
And go on to another.

That’s how it goes for a few hours,
But there’s still over twenty to go.
When all that is done, they get fed
And give a happy low.

You head inside when the work is over
And by then the day is done.
Everyday the same routine,
Everyday you rise before the sun.

The Back Yard Battle Field

By Emily Patch
Rutland High School, Grade 11

Every day after school
They get off of the bus
And start to the castle next door.
They run as fast as they can,
And grab their biggest sword.

Then all four choose the side
That they will be fighting for.
Everyday a battle is won.
But so far no one has won the war.

Then they fight as hard as they can,

The Nameless Things

By Emily Patch
Rutland High School, Grade 11

Little things float around the hay field,
and I suggest while crossing, you should yield.

For you wouldn't want to hurt these little beings
Although these things you shouldn't be seeing.

They float and fly and glide on the brisk wind
Giving hope for the people who have sinned.

Once upon a time there was a sailor,
Who sunk his ship in the bay.
He tried to get it unsunk,
Day,
After day,
After day.

He called upon his first mate,
To see what he could do.
The first mate just stood there,
Saying,
“There’s nothing
I can do.”

So he went to the local tavern,
And gathered all of the men.
They put tons of ropes around it,
And at last
Got it up.
Amen.

Our Group of Three

By Emily Patch
Rutland High School, Grade 11

My friends and I are always in groups of three.
And that’s probably how it will always be.

There used to be four for a little bit,
And we miss our friend, I have to admit.

He moved 3000 miles away,
That’s 33 hours if you travel by day.

But now we are back to three again,
Just like we have always been.

Lines, songs, and the scripts,
The stage is covered with paint drips,
Most of the costumes have some rips,
But what can I say?
We are putting on a play.

The tension is always high,
Some are so tired, they may die,
This year there is no makeup guy,
But what can I say?
We are putting on a play.

By Emily Patch
Rutland High School, Grade 11

White and soft,
The snowflakes fall
Past the window pane.
It’s hard to imagine
The science involved,
That it’s just frozen rain.

They carry dreams
Far away
On the frozen breeze.
To other towns,
Or other states,
Or maybe overseas.

Each is different,
Each is unique,
Each like a human being.
From far away
They look the same,

An Autumn Hike

By Emily Patch
Rutland High School, Grade 11

Have I ever seen a ghost? Of course I have. I see them all of the time. I’m not normal in that sense. There’s a few that even live at my house, but they don’t harm anything. They just go about their day like I do, and no one ever notices them, except me of course. They are like a see-though extension of my regular family. There was this one time though, that a couple of my friends and I saw a ghost. That’s the story I’ll tell.