Kaylah Sharpe

What do I Wait For?

By Kaylah Sharpe
Rice Memorial High School, Grade 9

Every year I wait.
I wait for warm, cozy fires;
for a blanket of snow on the cold ground outside.
For songs of joy and merriment to fill the air,
like rushing water filling lakes during a flood.
A tree adorned with colorful decorations.
Lights twinkling cheerfully on the mantle.
I wait to see children outside running up a hill,
carrying their bright-colored sled with them.
The smiles they wear when they go down the steep hill,
accompanied by many screams of delight.
The making of a snowman,
dressed in a furry, wool hat and a matching scarf.
I wait to put on my best clothes and go to church.
At the mass, a small manger set up in front of the altar.
Wise men, shepherds, sheep, angels, Mary, Joseph, and baby Jesus.
After mass, parents hand out candy-canes;
the red and white stripes taste of peppermint.
At the house, I wait to make cookies;
sugar, chocolate chip, and gingerbread.
Hands reach for them eagerly.
I wait to set some chewy cookies aside for an expected guest.
People gradually wander upstairs to their warm beds.
Listening in bed, the clock chimes twelve times.
Slowly, people drift off to sleep,
almost like zombies;
dreaming of the next morning.
I wait to wake up early,
run downstairs excitedly, and see what I’ve been waiting for.
Presents, wrapped in red and green paper,
sitting under the beautiful tree.
Stockings hang on the fireplace,
stuffed with goodies and treats.
Everyone laughs happily,
as if the day will never end.
I wait for joy that the Christmas spirit brings.

The Wooden Box
by Kaylah Sharpe

The rusty lock clicks as I turn the old key,
and I slowly open the wooden box cautiously.
It’s dark in the attic; there’s only one dim light.
It casts shadows on the walls so late at night.
I examine a fancy carving on the inside of the box
that says “Property of Stanley Fox”.
I question who this Stanley could be,
was he someone I knew possibly?

By Kaylah Sharpe
Charlotte Central School, Grade 8

I wait.
I wait for summer.
summer means ice cream melting in the heat,
hanging out at the beach and swimming.
There is no school.
Only four more months until summer.
I am waiting,
for green fields to run in
and cool breezes.
Summertime means family vacations,
exotic places, and the smell of the ocean
wafting in the air.