The House On Greenwood Road
By: Meagan McManus
Michigan
The perfect place to escape
Surrounded by dark green pine trees and cozy log cabins
The sound of monstrous waves crashing onto the sandy shore
Midnight bike rides with millions of stars glistening above
The taste of the delicate, sweet peaches from the farmer’s market
Freedom, the theme of the trip
Building shapes out of the fluffy clouds in the blue sky above us
Orange, red, and pink bleeding through the clear sunset
Family and friends, love and laughter
The strangers you meet, who you feel you have known for a lifetime
Warm sunny days and cool crispy nights
Memories and photos that you will keep with you forever
Michigan
A journey that holds a special place in our hearts
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A Flower Blooms Slowly
by: Isabela Uytiepo
A flower blooms slowly
First the bud, then the pedals, then the center.
And 6th grade blooms quickly.
It wooshes by, and you only realize after you enter.
First, you all laugh and have some fun,
Then comes health class,
It turns awkward and you want to be done.
People turned red, just like a cherry,
And when health class becomes real,
It all becomes scary.
The sandy soft dunes
You make new bonds stronger than ice
With the laughing and staying up late
In 6th grade, for you, laughter and friends will suffice.
A flower blooms slowly, unlike 7th grade.
“Lot’s of work, scary teachers,”
Suddenly when you begin, you’re afraid.
First it was the google meets
“You’re on mute, no not that button,”
Your soft pajamas against your skin all day
But your house is where you are shut in.
Then hybrid came.
Your face sweaty and sticky from the mask
Your breath heavy and gross
But you can’t take it off, because if you do, this horrible thing will last.
Friendships start breaking, just like porcelain,
But you don’t realize it until you find better ones
The type of friends that glue you back together, over and over again.
Staying up late to finish that essay
Your hand cramping up from the pencil writing
Your head hurts, so you put on your pillow to lay.
“You’re almost all grown up now,” they say, expecting you to listen.
But the load of heavy boulders they throw at you still seems like too much
So when tears rain down from all the stress
All grown up? You don’t seem like such.
Now, in 8th grade, it’s almost all over.
We graduate this year,
And yes there is lots of fear
There is lots of fear among us all
And it’s barely even Fall.
I have friends, not the same ones as before
I have had things I departed from
I have had things I’ve attained
And although middle school was fine for me
If I could have extra time for it, I wouldn’t want any more.
But without it I couldn’t learn, couldn’t be who I’ve become
I would be stupid and careless, I would have no fun.
I wouldn’t have met him, I wouldn’t have met her,
I would’ve been lost and scared, my emotions all in a stir.
So after this year, when we are in gowns and throw up our caps
I will cry, and hug him, and hug her,
And I will think of all the gaps.
The gaps that I left in this year, the things I thought unsure,
But I won’t have any regrets
I hope and pray the same will be of yours.
By: Meagan McManus
Michigan
The perfect place to escape
Surrounded by dark green pine trees and cozy log cabins
The sound of monstrous waves crashing onto the sandy shore
Midnight bike rides with millions of stars glistening above
The taste of the delicate, sweet peaches from the farmer’s market
Freedom, the theme of the trip
Building shapes out of the fluffy clouds in the blue sky above us
Orange, red, and pink bleeding through the clear sunset
Family and friends, love and laughter
The strangers you meet, who you feel you have known for a lifetime
Warm sunny days and cool crispy nights
Memories and photos that you will keep with you forever
Michigan
A journey that holds a special place in our hearts
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A Flower Blooms Slowly
by: Isabela Uytiepo
A flower blooms slowly
First the bud, then the pedals, then the center.
And 6th grade blooms quickly.
It wooshes by, and you only realize after you enter.
First, you all laugh and have some fun,
Then comes health class,
It turns awkward and you want to be done.
People turned red, just like a cherry,
And when health class becomes real,
It all becomes scary.
The sandy soft dunes
You make new bonds stronger than ice
With the laughing and staying up late
In 6th grade, for you, laughter and friends will suffice.
A flower blooms slowly, unlike 7th grade.
“Lot’s of work, scary teachers,”
Suddenly when you begin, you’re afraid.
First it was the google meets
“You’re on mute, no not that button,”
Your soft pajamas against your skin all day
But your house is where you are shut in.
Then hybrid came.
Your face sweaty and sticky from the mask
Your breath heavy and gross
But you can’t take it off, because if you do, this horrible thing will last.
Friendships start breaking, just like porcelain,
But you don’t realize it until you find better ones
The type of friends that glue you back together, over and over again.
Staying up late to finish that essay
Your hand cramping up from the pencil writing
Your head hurts, so you put on your pillow to lay.
“You’re almost all grown up now,” they say, expecting you to listen.
But the load of heavy boulders they throw at you still seems like too much
So when tears rain down from all the stress
All grown up? You don’t seem like such.
Now, in 8th grade, it’s almost all over.
We graduate this year,
And yes there is lots of fear
There is lots of fear among us all
And it’s barely even Fall.
I have friends, not the same ones as before
I have had things I departed from
I have had things I’ve attained
And although middle school was fine for me
If I could have extra time for it, I wouldn’t want any more.
But without it I couldn’t learn, couldn’t be who I’ve become
I would be stupid and careless, I would have no fun.
I wouldn’t have met him, I wouldn’t have met her,
I would’ve been lost and scared, my emotions all in a stir.
So after this year, when we are in gowns and throw up our caps
I will cry, and hug him, and hug her,
And I will think of all the gaps.
The gaps that I left in this year, the things I thought unsure,
But I won’t have any regrets
I hope and pray the same will be of yours.