9-12th Grade

Grand Prize Winner
Free Time
Morgan Brackenbury, 10th Grade

So much free time
There’s nothing to do
Except watching television
Or cleaning up a room
Instead of walking around aimlessly
Bothering everyone who passes by
Why not pursue a new hobby or grove
Invite someone along to be your muse
Roll up your sleeves
Grab a shovel to start
A seed has just been planted
And is now beginning to sprout
One by one ideas come and do not go
So, you make a list
And write them all down
One by one you can cross them out
When complete
Make it a goal to try every single one
So starting with the first
You get up and begin
That guitars been sitting in a corner for too long
Now there’s a bond
What a joy its insane
Cooking for fun creating dishes to try
What a blast a new found paradise
Set up a tent in front of the barn
Be my guest stay as long as you like
Later we will catch fireflies
Spot birds’ nests in trees
Fly kites with siblings
Then possibly we will start a camp fire
Roast marshmallows and gram crackers
Don’t forget the chocolate to
Your list goes on and on
Adding three when you cross one out
Spending time at home
Is not so bad now that you have got a plan
Just use your time wisely
Invite a friend or two
Why not try a class via zoom
Better yet get creative
Use your imagination don’t be shy
You don’t know if its any good or not
Till you at least try

Set me Free
Wendy Hills, 9th Grade

I am stuck at home
No friends
No foe
Just me
I read
I write
I gaze longingly
Out the window
To be set free
The life I now live
Is different
Not at all the same
Is just a few names
Of what I’m feeling
Break my chains
Set me loose
Allow me to roam again
Take away my agony
Take away my fear
Leave it all behind
Set me free
From this prison
This isolated mountain
Lengthen my rope
Set me free
Allow me to feel the sunshine
Allow me to smell the grass
Don’t hold me back
Set me free

What a Child Beholds
Julianna Kunz, 9th Grade

I overheard some grown-ups say
Their home was like a prison
But my home never was that way—
More like life in a prism:

Where light is dyed and multiplied,
Like the joy of the family there.
My home is always pure and clean,
And song floats o’r the air.

My Father is the best of all;
My Mother is full of grace.
My sisters, brothers are pleasant too;
My home is a happy place.

Some think they’re stuck in their houses like
The dead in a catacomb.
But I’ll never think of mine that way
For I call Heaven my home.


Stuck at Home Copyright © by Amelia Birkholz. All Rights Reserved.

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