Congratulations to the 2021 School Library Month/National Poetry Month winners!
Sarah V:
The Mountain
I am in the dark,
Yet it is for the Light.
I am very plain,
But on the inside I am bright.
I am calm,
Yet on the inside I feel scared.
I am alone,
But the loneliness is shared.
I am confused,
Yet I know why this is so.
I am sometimes sad,
Though you may not know.
I am on a journey,
A journey beyond time.
I don’t know when I’ll get there;
How long this road of mine.
Yet I am content
That the road is rough and long,
For the low before the high note,
Is what makes a pretty song.
And so I am a-walking;
I’ll keep walking every day.
I will trip and stumble,
But I’ll keep going on my way.
And when I’m on the mountain,
And looking down below,
My footprints in the dust
And my tears turned into snow
I’ll sing my song forever,
With joy and not one tear,
And I’ll smile at the low notes,
That brought the high one here.
Emma A:
The Creative World of Cinema
A world beyond imagination
where Tara meets Tatooine
A glimpse into any place past the red carpet or the mantle of the living room
where Pemberly meets Pandora
A never ending thrill of happiness or horror
where the Bates motel meets Bedrock
A mental break from school
where Wakanda meets Wayne’s World
An escape from the challenges of reality and a pandemic
Runner Up, Christine G:
Love
He said that he had loved her,
But his actions never proved it.
She had needed more than words,
But words were all he knew.
Communication died, with the love that never would
So trapped in this reality,
They would remain,
Lovers lost in eternal pain.
Hester Prynne walks out into the light,
Ready to illuminate her badge of shame, and
Abigail Williams lurks in the shadows,
Plotting subterfuges.
Waldo Emerson, ever the philosopher, broods on about
Individualism, while
Henry David plods and claps and shouts, “Let’s do this!”
MLK looks on, worrying America isn't quite ready.
Nick Carraway enters the scene, snobbish but hopeful,
Only to be disillusioned by the emptiness of this America.
Martin comes forward, though, reminding him that
It takes all of us to fill the bucket of promise.
“No, the people aren’t empty. They will fill the bucket,”
Whispers John Proctor, surveying from his place in the
clouds.
