week34-08

The Grass is Dead on the Other Side

By Daniel Wyman
Montpelier High School, Grade 12

I feel ripped from a tapestry
Taped hastily
To the facing wall
Only to watch the hole I’ve left.

Morning, I watch my void
Voraciously
Wishing to return
Now light edges in, illuminating
The easy brush strokes from which I was torn;
A scenery coming clear
Of inviting white light, bordered by cherubs
Carefree and safe.

Midday, my past position glares
As if to cast blame on me
Implying with a stare
Infidelity
But I can only gaze in want
And hurt at my rejection
While gardens and doves join the cherubs
In beauteous insurrection
They rejoice in notes of splendor
And songs of lovers.

Night, I squint at the remains;
My old outer edges blurring
But reflecting still
Their reverie.
The skewed cherubs fade and doves fly away;
Gardens grow thin to grass
Until
There is no anything, there lies a frame.
But I lay bordered by limitless boundaries

Grammie’s Ring

By Melina Myers
Ferrisburgh Central School, Grade 3

My Grammie has a purple ring
A lovely ring
My Grammie has a ring
With a blue birthstone
That we share
We went to see her
In the hospital
She looked up at me
And asked in a soft voice
A weak voice
If I wanted her ring
I said, “No”
Then she said,
“I’ll save this ring for you”
Then I gave her a hug
And kiss
And we left the hospital
And dad said,
“She wanted you
To have that ring
So you’ll remember her
Forever.”

My Grammy

By Sofia V.G. Collas
Ferrisburgh Central School, Grade 3

My grammy has long hair
White hair
Pony tailed hair
Straight hair
I hope I’ll be as pretty as her

She turns off the wire fence
The shocking fence
A thin fence
A silver fence
Around the garden so I won’t get hurt

We are going to make a pie
A delicious pie
A homemade pie
A yummy pie
The one I will make with my grammy

When I see her I feel love
My legs feel love
My stomach feels love
My heart feels love
I love my grammy

Pizza

By Morgan Smith
Northfield Elementary School, Grade 4

Pepperoni or cheese--any kind you want
If I could, I'd have pizza every night
Zoom, so good, gone in a snap
Zap, more, more, more
Always will be my favorite food

Breaking Up!!!!!!

By Katherine Massell
Edmunds Elementary School, Grade 4

WALKING TO THE MOVIES

“Hey, Jake”
“Hello, Sarah”
“So were you going to take me to the movies?”
“Oh, um yeah, sure you want to come?”
“Yeah, thanks, that’s why I’m here!”

AT THE MOVIES

“So, what are we watching Jake?”
“Oh, a Bill Nye Video. I love learning about science!”
{Muttering} “You are such a little wimp!”
“What?”
“Nothing… want popcorn?”
“Oh, I brought a tuna sandwich.”
“JAKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I thought we were going to spend a wonderful night together watching horror movies! You are such a little jerk! Why did I ever come here?”
“Well, maybe because you are my girlfriend.”
“Where did you get that idea?”
“Well, that’s what you said before we came here!”

My Grandmother

By Amber Boyce
Hartford Memorial Middle School, Grade 8

My grandmother sits, hair permed to perfection. She has gray hairs playing peek-a-boo in a mass of brunette dye.
My grandfather sits in his chair, his snow white hair tightly around his head. His glasses barely cling to his face as he leans over his paper.
Sentimental feelings wrapped in the splendor of romance can make time stand still.

Grammy "M"

By Molly Mead
Hartford Memorial Middle School, Grade 8

I’d go to your house when I was little
And you would always give me those vanilla wafers.
The Red Sox would always be on the TV.
And sometimes you would be playing solitaire on your table
Listening to the game instead of watching it.
Your house smelled like cigarette smoke
But that didn’t bother me too much
It was just the best to be at your house.
When I was done with my vanilla wafer
I would run up your staircase
There were tons of rooms to play in
And each time was like a new adventure.
There was a bell that I would ring and
You’d yell up the stairs and tell me to stop.
And I would giggle and run into a new room
I’d be up there for what seemed like hours.
I miss those days, I miss you.

Grandfather

By Mindy Yeung
Hartford Memorial Middle School, Grade 8

The nice warm smell lingers in the air.
Chairs and tables made of red wood sit silently on the cold marble floor.
Small breezes run lightly around the chair Grandfather used to rest in.
Now, his comfortable presence is gone
Along with the shine in his eyes.
His loud energetic laugh floats away
And all there is left
Is the warm smell of scented essence.

Grandma

Alicia Cerasoli
Hartford Memorial Middle School, Grade 8

I gaze out the shining bright window
Soft blue sky stares back.
I sit on her lap and listen.
I listen to her rich, love-filled voice.
She rocks me and sings me a song.
Time pauses around me
Nothing else matters.
The homey smell of
Fresh, warm, chewy cookies
Lingers through the air.
Grandpa sits still reading the paper
In the den.
She sings to me that a bumble bee
Will come and give me love and joy.
She cradles her soft, old hands
Around my body and hums.
I get a warm feeling in my heart and it spreads
Inside-
Out.

Grandma

By Leah Thomas
Woodstock Union High School, Grade 10

G reat friend
R eally good cook
A nd above all
N othing bad
D oes love to play with
M e, house and tea parties
A grandma is oh, so special

I Will Never Forget

By Carly Harris
Woodstock Union High School, Grade 10

Remember when we went to church
remember when we baked all day
remember when we took those walks
and when you let me stay up late just to play.

The hugs that never stopped
The love that always came
the warmth of your heart...
that came right from the start.

And now you lay
in this cemetery
and all the thoughts of the times we had
the times we shared
and the times we cared.

I will never forget.

Grandma's Lesson

By Douglas Clift
Mt. Mansfield Union High School, Grade 12

Waves of warm air tumbling o’er
As I step fondly through the door
A long day finally done
School has been such a bore.

Smells borne in the heavy air make
Many tired senses awake
As I inhale deeply, I know
That Grandma’s decided to bake

A batch of her favorite treat.
With conversation discreet
I am kept far away, but my
Nose knows there is something sweet

Later that night, with footsteps like thunder
I tiptoe to the jar, trying not to blunder
And incur the wrath of a grandma
Who’s just found her loot plundered.

But good fortune wouldn’t smile on me
As very soon I might live to see.
Any grandma can sense mischief in kids
And mine was no different for me

She stood in the door, looking stern
My guilty face started to burn
As I brushed the crumbs from my lips
She gave a small grin, ‘So what did you learn?’

With a smirk and a shake of my head

Grandma’s house

By Kierstan Merrill
Rochester High School, Grade 9

Baking cookies
Watching movies
Telling stories
Having no worries
Her cozy hugs
Nice hot chocolate in her special mugs
Sitting by the fire
That I love to admire
When it's time to go
On my cheek it will show
A big lipstick stain
And it’s rude to complain
She says I love you
We say we love you too
And we leave grandma's house
Until next time

Would Have . . .

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

“Your Grandmother would have loved you”
they tell me
When I come dancing out of my room,
in a teal feather boa.
When I clip enormous flashy earrings
onto my tiny earlobes.
When I belt out Elvis Presley’s “Hound Dog”
for my chuckling family.
When I insist that dressing up in my nice Easter dress
is, in fact, wearing a fairy skirt with spotted pink tights.
When I beg to buy a shirt
spattered with magentas and greens.
When I carry the silver, sequin-covered prom dress
into the tiny dressing room
remarking, “Gee, this does look good!”
always,
“Your Grandmother would have loved you”

My Bonne Maman

By Kevin Roisin
Homeschooled, Croydon, NH, Grade 11

“Ooh la la!” were the words I heard as I poured ketchup onto my hamburger. As a child of six, I simply assumed the words meant “too much ketchup.” However, they were in fact an exclamation of surprise uttered by my Belgian grandma - or, my very own Bonne Maman. Now when I think of her, I see a woman of love, who has made it through her many years by relying on a subtle wit, and a slightly detached attitude toward the hardships in life. Whatever the joy or crisis, she brings a motherly approach to all things. Despite the language barrier, every time I see her in Belgium, she manages to communicate her love to me. Whether it’s cooking my favorite dish, washing my laundry, or simply attempting to bridge the language gap and have a conversation, she always makes me feel at home and loved by her.

A poem for her

By Ken McFadden
Leland and Gray Union High School, Grade 8

Here without you
My heart's been broken in two
In this endless pit of misery
It’s unbelievable
The way I feel about you
After my heart's been broken in two
I knew you were the one
The moment I saw you
I knew we could make it through
Without a doubt in my mind
Who knew we would climb so high
To the top of the sky
You and I
I never knew you could be so cruel
Those bright blue eyes
Will never look at me
The way they used to.

I looked at you
You looked at me
At that moment
I knew we were meant to be
You took my breath away
But then you turned away
When you come around
I act like a clown
You look at me
Like there’s nothing to see
I look at you with my heart in agony.

In this world I find so divine
I cannot find a place in my mind
To tell you the way I feel about you
But let me tell you
You don’t even have a clue
But that’s OK
Maybe if I look deep enough

Memory Lane

By Celsey Lumbra
Fairfield Center School, Grade 8

Her perfume scent, sweet lilac
She’s always there for me.
She waits on the front porch
A hug and kiss to greet.

I tell her everything
That first comes to my mind.
Her ears are always open
My grandma, I’m glad she’s mine.

Her listening skills attentive
She doesn’t speak a word,
I retell an experience I had
Nothing goes unheard.

We sit there on the front porch
Chatting the day away
Eating fresh baked cookies
With icy cold lemonade.

As I finish up retelling
Now it is her turn
She starts with what her day was like
Her storytelling skills, I yearn.

We sit there for hours
Talking in the rain
Endless chatting about our lives
As we walk down memory lane.

Grandparents

By Will Roberts
Fairfield Center School, Grade 8

Aged, old and withered
Calm and serene
Grandparents are wisest
Or that’s how they’re seen.

They’re fun to be with
And when you are not
Around these fine people
You miss them a lot.

The fun things that we do
And the memories we share
All were bred out of happiness
No fun thing was spared.

And sometimes they die
But their spirit lives on
Within you and me
Where they’ll always belong.

Grandma

By Jessica Cooper
Chelsea Public School, Grade 12

Razzleberry Pies
and millions of drawers full of candy.
Love flowing over like the glass of milk she let you pour too young.
Hugs that make the world right
And hands softer than silk
A smell that you wish they could put in a bottle
so you could always have her around.
Stories that make you laugh
and wisdom you can't find anywhere else.
Grandma.

Breaking Up

By Katelyn Robertello
Mt. St. Joseph Academy, Grade 9

Breaking up
Is hard to do.
You have to make sure you’re not rude
The person you were dating may not like you after that.
They may be rude and cruel to you.
They may look at you
And talk about you behind your back.
But you know that you’re the one with all the class.
And you know they will be back, asking you out again and
Then you can say no to them.
They will ask why and then you can say
They were mean to you and you don’t want to be with them, OK!

Mine is better than yours

By Colleen Shouldice
Mount St. Joseph Academy, Grade 9

People think grandparents are old
Mine give me wisdom
Others are crabby
Mine are energetic and fun
Others drool
Mine chew sugar gum
Others yell at the neighbor's children
Mine invite them in for lemonade
Others cannot compare to mine
Mine are the best

Images

By Katy Johnson
Richmond Elementary School, Grade 3

When I hear the words grandma and grandpa I think of
wrinkles, canes, glasses and cookies.
I also think of a plate I saw at “i-party” that said, “I see old people.”
I think of chocolates and nice furniture.
I think of gray hair, blue bruises and homemade quilts.
I also think of rakes, hoes, shovels and a garden with a birdbath and a tree.
I think of red berry bushes and lipstick.
I think of rubber boots, glasses of wine and huge, old books.
I think of jars full of m&ms and paintings of all different things on the walls.
That’s what I think of when I hear the words grandma and grandpa.

Now I Understand

By Karsen Woods
Westford School, Grade 7

I sometimes wonder why it didn't work
I suppose it just wasn't meant to be
It's quite obvious that you didn't like me for me
You only liked what you could see
And now I understand why it didn't work
It's all because you are just a jerk

Confusing you for a good person

By Ashley Dufresne
Leland and Gray Union High School, Grade 9

There was something strong about you
That made me feel the way that I do
I thought of you as a person that I could always look to
You came into my life at the perfect time
Your smile, your touch, your gaze all of it was too much
It was that in which brightened the little light that I soon thought that I had lost
The way everything was all right when I was with you
I talked and you would listen
I would do the same for you
I never thought of you as more than just a friend
But it confused me whenever you would look at me, I couldn’t help but turn away
Every day my feelings for you would slowly grow
Every day I would learn more about you that I didn’t know
Seemed like you could pick me up whenever I was feeling down
I don’t know when my feelings changed from friends to wanting so much more
But as soon as I felt it the friendship flew out the door.

The Breakup

By Branden Taylor
Mt. St. Joseph Academy, Grade 9

Four words that make your world crash.
You fall to your knees and you know it will end.
You thought this time she was the one.
You spent all the time and emotions you had to make her happy.
You can’t cry because you know that it’s for the best.
All that will happen is you will be alone again.
Your entire world comes crashing down in your head.
All at once you feel a wet face.
As you look to the ground you see a little puddle,
A puddle of tears.
Not trying to cry, you ask a simple word.
With no reply she says she is sorry.
The phone goes blank.
You hang up and go on with your life.
Your life crumbles beneath your feet.
Things happen too fast for you to grasp.
One day a while later you see her.
You stop and say that you once learned to love.
As you walk away you also say you learned that love is fake.
For years to come till the day you died you knew you would love her.

Grandpa

By Dylan Pratt
Rochester School, Grade 9

I went to my grandparent’s house last summer and my Grandpa told me a story. When he was a teenager he was working on the farm his father owned. He was walking through a field going after a few cows. Out of nowhere a baby deer went running by him, so he took off after it and ran it down. When he caught up with it he wrapped his arms around its belly and dragged it back home. When it calmed down he was able to feed it some milk with a baby bottle. After he fed the deer it would follow my Grandpa everywhere he went. After a few weeks my Grandpa tagged its ear with a bell. After a year the deer started to grow antlers, he was only a spike horn. Then one day it ran away and didn’t come back. The next year Grandpa’s cousin was hunting behind the farm and shot a four pointer. When he was looking at the deer he found a bell in its ear. He never told my Grandpa that he shot his deer until about twenty years later.

My Grandfather

By Jordan Wright
Dummerston School, Grade 8

Through Eyes of Love

By Evan Cope
Champlain Valley Union High School, Grade 11

I look through eyes of love
Wondering if you know
If you care
Watching you mock me
Wondering if you mean it
I walk away
And play along
Not to lead on
Not to let you know
But as night comes strong
And I lay in bed
I wonder if you care
I wonder if the hopes I have
Are not just hopes
But reality
If there is a spark
So help me
Cause I’m in the dark
Lend me a hand
Look at me
And tell me you see
Through eyes of love
At me