Congratulations to the winners of the
2017 Seven Bridge Writers’ Collaborative’s

Third Annual Student Poetry Contest!

Thank you to our guest judge, Lex Thomas, for reading almost 300 poems by students in grade 2 to 12!  Thank you to the staff at Mary Rowlandson, Luther Burbank and Nashoba Regional High School and to the staff at the Thayer Memorial Library for their partnerships and help with the contest.

All student poems are on display at the Thayer Memorial Library through the end of National Poetry month.  The community is invited to hear the winning poems read at the Poetry Open Mic on Sunday, April 30th at the Hall, the First Church of Christ, Lancaster, MA, at 2 PM.  All poets are welcome to read poems of their own as well.

“This program is supported in part by a grant
from the Lancaster Cultural Council,

a local agency which is supported 
by the Massachusetts Cultural Council, a state agency.”



Chit Chat

This is a cat. He loves to chit chat.

His name is Matt.

He has a neighbor who is a rat.

He just bought an expensive hat.

His hat has stripes.

They look like pipes.

The stripes are red and green.

You better be nice and not mean.

Matt likes pie.

He doesn’t cry.

He likes to fly high.

He met an animal that was drinking a Danimal.

The Danimal was flavored berry.

The animal was named Larry.

He was singing, ‘Don’t stop the beat!”

He was singing it while he ate meat.

            Aaron Ethier and Amanda Ritter, grade 2


Surprise in My Eyes 

Surprise, surprise, in my eyes.

I see a star over my car.

Now, now, little bear,

sitting in my little chair.

Here, here, little seal,

don’t steal, little seal.

Emma Hudak, grade 2


Golden Dragon

Golden dragon, golden dragon, how are you?

You’re like flames. WHOOSH!

You fly right by,

by the blink of my eye and the tips of my toes.

The wind blows sharply, and the night crept slow and smooth.

Then he went home and slept through the night.

Silent! Nothing moving in your cave.

Brendan Brunelle, Zachary Flanagan, and Joseph O’Riorden, grade 2


Up! Down!

Up! Down!

Up,                              Down,

Up,                                                      Down,

Up,                                                                              Down,


Up and down to the tiny town.

Liberty Zmijak, grade 2


Bugs, Bugs!

Bugs, bugs, are on the ground.

Bugs, bugs, I found, I found.

Bugs, bugs, fly high in the sky.

Bugs, bugs, fly in a house.

Bugs are outside.

Bugs are inside.

Alia Hanson and Madeline Krikorian, grade 2




Once there was a girl named Summer

who danced with a plumber

that sang with a drummer

who loved her husband named, Gunner,

who sat on a wheel with a spear that night.

As they slept, came a noise

that sounded like boys that swept

through the night.

When a boy came into sight,

when summer screamed with the thunder that rumbled,

the next day she woke with a start.

(What is that boy doing in here? asked Summer.)

As the drummer, plumber and Gunner came through the door.

            Chelsea Amaral, grade 3



Athletes are always fast.

Athletes never come in last.

Athletes are competitive.

This is how they live.

Athletes are you and me.



Katie Potter, grade 3


My Dog

I have the smartest dog of all.

He will come when you call.

He can sometimes stall,

but he loves it,

when you throw a ball.

Emma Lemire, grade 3



I Am

I am the sky

I am the

Daylight of the


the Darkness

of the Day

I am the Happy

of the Sad

the Evil

of the good

I am the

White in the Black

I am

the Beginning of

the End

Melissa Cerioni, grade 4


The Ninja Kitten

Doo, Doo, Doo.

He’s a Ninja Kitten,

beating bad guys,

doing good things.

He’s super swag.

He doesn’t brag.

He’s a really good Persian,

like he should.

But then one day

there was a situation in May.

Hostages, with catnip

stolen by Dr. Evil Mouse.

He got in a choppa,

drove over to his lair.

By doing karate

he could beat the mouse.

Ninja Kitten didn’t beat him yet,

and I bet it would take

a miracle for him to win.

He kicked the mouse in the shin.

30 minutes later

he was hanging over gators.

Yes, alligators.

He thought he’d bite the rope

but he realized, he’d fall in.

He thought and shot a shuriken

at the button panel to close

the gator pit.

He cut himself out

and didn’t shout, “I’m free!”

Oh, wait, he did.

He got the guard’s attention.

He fought and fought

and won again.

He is the best!

Ninja Kitten!

John Knop, grade 4


Dawn to Sunset NC

The sun appears in the sky at dawn.

I drink the light, some stars still in the sky.

I wait till they disappear, till you can make out the leaves fluttering off the trees and

resting gently at my feet.

I take a walk just to hear the sound of nature.

Leaves crunching, squirrels squeaking, and birds chirping in tune with the crickets.

I hear frogs croaking, and I know I have arrived.

Soon in the distance, I hear water splashing around.

I run up to the lake, take off my shoes, then my socks, then put my bare feet in the water,

lapping at my feet.

I throw off the t-shirt covering my bathing suit always, and I jump in.

After a while, I look up.

The sun is not in the sky anymore, it is in the trees casting shadows on the earth,

lighting the sky to a maroon pink.

Stars again dotting the sky.

I rush home before dark, and soon I am drifting into a deep sleep.

From dawn to sunset I think.

Then everything went black.

Noelle Chandley, grade 4



Fog in the darkness

Inside my head

Getting thicker

And thicker

I get madder

And madder.

And then,

finally, it

goes away.

And the sun

can shine over me


As I become happier than



Emma Dionne, grade 4


Dressage, a Pi Poem

Harmony, grace, perfection.


They dance to music


Dancing a test to perfection

They dance in perfect harmony to the beautiful music

Rhythmic pirouettes

Counter canter, flying changes, half pass

They dance sunrise to sunset

Airs above ground

Flying like they have wings

Beginner to grand prix level, all in harmony

Kicking up dirt, foaming mouths and flailing hooves

We use only our legs to “talk”

Dressage is more difficult than it looks, sitting still

We sit still

Dressage is

Harmony and grace

Practice, perfection, beauty and grace, it’s more difficult

Than you think.

Emma Schexnaydre, grade 4


Nat Cat Limerick

There once was a cat named Nat,

who was an old cat that took naps.

He LOVES to eat fish

served up on a dish.

And that is why he naps on a mat.

Wyatt Snow, grade 4



New England Weather

Weather, weather, always the same,

Florida sunny, Washington rain.

But here in New England, to our surprise,

it changes, summer to winter, in one sun-rise!

In California and Arizona it’s always summer,

but here in New England we have winter… bummer.

In South Carolina and Virginia the Springs are lush,

but here in Massachusetts the ground turns to mush.

In New Mexico and Texas it will be hot and dry,

but here in New England prepare to say, “Oh, my!”

NECN thought they could keep up,

but here in New England the changing weather won’t let up.

Kentucky and Wisconsin have the best Fall,

but here in New England it slows to a crawl.

Raking leaves all day long,

but people in Georgia and Louisiana do nothing, it’s just wrong.

We live by surprise,

weather changing in front of our eyes!

Some people only want sun’s rays,

but here in New England we wouldn’t have it any other way!

Michael DiTullio, grade 5


Secret Friends

Secret Friends are the ones found in books.

The words on the paper describe all their looks.

They might be heroic

but they may not know it.

They might pretty

or silly

or witty!

Some might be wizards

with magical spells.

Some might be travelers

with tales to tell.

Some might be crazy

like the Mad Hatter

but they are my friends

and that’s all that matters.

Sofia Doucette, grade 5



I ran my fingers across the stone.

Each divot seemed to play a role.

Wars, fires, floods and more,

I stifled a shiver as I was frozen to my core.

Everything in time seemed to slow down

as I slowly fell to the cold, hard ground.

My world went black as I could feel myself fading.

Then I saw a different black, a different shading.

I ran toward it, and my world seemed to come back to me.

My beautiful world came back, now I could see.

But something was off,

something was wrong.

Like an incorrect not, played in a song.

The stone, like my vision,

was gone from existence,

gone from the living.

Charlie Lemire, grade 5



The wind blows by

In my hair

My arms nap

And fall to the ground.

Minutes later

My whole body


With a big thud on the ground

Am I dead?


Is it a new adventure beginning?

I’m discovered by the people

They take me away and cut me up

It hurts so much

My life is about to end

I’m getting burned

Where am I?

I lasted 107 years

Why could I have not lived a little longer?

Why did the wind have to take me down

I am a tree

Am I really worth saving?

Hansi Kommanavancha, grade 5



Orange and white,

sitting in a field,


for the perfect moment.

All of a sudden

a gazelle comes out of the

Jungle and into the field.

The tiger is waiting

for the perfect moment.

It is about to pounce,

but it knows better.

The gazelle comes closer.

The tiger is ready,

it jumps forward

from its hiding place.

The gazelle instantly


The tiger gets caught

on a piece of wheat and slows down.

The gazelle has just enough time

to run away.

The tiger sits in the field


for the perfect moment.

Matthew Howland, grade 5



They think I’m mad

All day

Every day

But I’m not, I’m sad.

They run from me.

They exclude me.

They are mean to me.

I was only mean because she was

But she never got caught.

I did.

And as they run from me

I get mad

As they exclude me

I’m so annoyed.

And when they are mean to me

I’m ready to burst like a water balloon that’s about to get smashed to the ground.

And as soon as the water balloon hits the ground

I’m off.

I chase them, I swim after them…

There’s always something near me to throw or bang them with

As my parents say, “No, Lauren,” or “Stop, Lauren,”

It’s too late, I’m in my own little world

And they don’t exist.

Lauren DiTullio, grade 5



Coconut’s Life

I remember when it all started

When I first gained my consciousness

I was simply a little coconut

On a Florida palm tree

Just a little green baby coconut

With all my coconut friends

Overlooking the Caribbean

Hanging over the sea

In endless coconut joy

Forever observing as the waves rolled in

And crashed onto the shore

With loud booms

Shaking the tree where I lived

The hot tropical air would keep my outer shell warm

Because it’s never cold on the sandy shores of Florida

I have such a relaxing life

I had such a relaxing life

I will never again have a relaxing life

All thanks to the day the storm came

It had violent winds that threw objects I had known all my life out to sea

Leaves of the mighty palm in which I lived were torn and ripped

Thrown out to sea

Worst of all,

All my friends

The ones I had known forever

Were launched to the ocean

And swallowed by the waves

As I helplessly sat in the coarse sand

Watching them leave my coconut life

Now I’m just a lonely coconut

An old brown coconut

Sitting on the beach

Hoping my friends will return…

They will someday… I know it

Owen Donelle, grade 6


I Fall

I fall


drifting to the ground

soaring this way and that way swaying in the wind

I land

The harsh winter air hits my face and sends me flying back into the air

I join my brothers and sister as I settle down for the second time


a great big hand comes down and picks me up

I get packed into a ball and thrown in the air

The wind whistles through my ears


I hit a tree and stick

unable to free myself



I slide down the bark and rejoin my friends

It rains

I can feel

the big


drops hitting my face

The water splashes

sending shivers down my spine

It’s cold

I freeze

The clouds part and I see the sun shining bright

I lay there

all day

watching the sun slowly melt my brothers and sisters

always scared that it will be my turn next

I melt

I feel the sun’s rays beating down on me

I go slowly

at first

then faster

I evaporate

turning into nothing but air

I rise

Jonathan Castner, grade 6


The Jolly Pirate Ship

Standing on the edge

of the jolly pirate’s ship.

I feel the breeze

play with my hair.

Looking down

into the water.

What will I find?

I jump into the water.


It’s as warm

as bathtub water.

I hear bubbles

sizzle up to the surface.

The ocean tastes

and smells like saltines.

Shipwreck with algae growing on it,

dark holes spotted the wood

halfway sunken into the sand.

How did that happen?

Coral reef with

millions of colorful

fish, sea life, and plants.

Angel, tuna, and clown fish.

Seaweed, barnacles, coral and more.

Like an underwater rainbow of confetti.








Beautiful starfish

Cotton candy pink, tropical tangerine orange,

Bumblebee yellow and plum purple.

I realized I haven’t seen one in so long.

Standing on the edge

of the jolly pirate’s shop,

As the sun sinks into the ocean

leaving streaks of pink and red behind.

Mariah Reisner, grade 6



Nothing to do

nothing to see

darkness has fallen

blackness I bleed

treasuring something I no longer need

I’ve lost my willpower

on others’ I feed

delivering sadness

wherever I breathe

they don’t my life,

my sorrows I sheathe.

No entertainment

no purpose in life

against my own death

forever I fight

alone I shall cry

hidden by the night

and the joys I once had are removed by the light

but forever I go on

though life is my plight

my sorrows I sheathe,

They don’t know my life.

Evermore I search

for reasons not to hide

constantly living

a fracturing lie

yet I always will yearn

for what’s beyond the light

not for curiosity

but for my time drawn nigh

and now I may go,

and now I may cry,

no longer judged by thousands of eyes…

Allie Hunter, grade 6


Snowy Woods

It was a great day,

the day that Mr. Woods came to life.

With his button nose,

his stone smile,

his stick arms,

his camo-style Red Sox hat,

and his carrot nose,

he was Woods… Snowy Woods.

Now Snowy Woods

was a happy guy,

he would never cry.

He hobbled around,

with his cool hat,

nothing was frightened of him,

not even a rat.

He loves to read,

outside it keeps getting hotter,

his favorite book,

is Snowy Potter.

He loves to try,

some new things,

even if it means

his car gets some dings.

Snowy Woods is like a joke,

he is thought and funny combined.

Now as the years pass, Snowy get old,

but he still tries to stand bold.

Now Snowy knows,

he must go

back to the land of other snowmen.

With that button nose,

that stone smile,

those stick arms,

his carrot nose,

and that one and only Red Sox hat,

he was Woods, Snowy Woods.

Aidan MacDonald, grade 6



The pounding of Water

covers Ground

a coat of wetness

trying to cause destruction to Ground

It does not matter

beauty still germinates out of Ground.

Pink smudges poke out their heads

green sprouts out of Ground

darkness has settled all around

angry at Ground for its endless happiness

“This is no happy time, death is around but you seem not to care!”

Ground doesn’t listen to Darkness because

it does not matter

beauty still germinates out of Ground.

With no Light around

no one can appreciate

what still comes up

but Ground knows

it does not matter

beauty still germinates out of Ground.

Ground knew it would happen

Light coming around

bring Destruction

But as Light and Destruction attempt to kill Ground, Ground just grows back again

An endless cycle, Ground knows

It does not matter

Beauty still germinates out of Ground.

Nicolas Cerioni, grade 6




Little dancers in the night,

or are they angels,

here to cast light?

Glowing and glittering,

they sail the skies,

for little ones to ponder,

with curious eyes.

Whimsical wonders right out of a dream,

spinning and soaring,

so, it may seem.

Hoping and wishing,

on the brightest of them all,

I find myself wondering,

do stars ever fall?

And if they fall,

where do they land?

Do they wash up on beaches,

to rest in the sand?

Is the Earth a bed,

for weary stars?

Or maybe someone comes along,

to collect them in jars.

Or do they simply stay in the sky,

watching day by day,

go by and by?

They watch from their posts,

the children play,

until the children group up,

yet the stars have to stay.

The eyes of children twinkle so bright,

easy for stars to see,

even in the gloom of night.

Yet as they grown,

the twinkle will dim,

the chances of it recurring,

ever so slim,

but the twinkle only leaves,

to live in the skies,

tis when a new star,

will rise.

And if you ever need a little light,

some hope,

or joy

look up

and see

where all your wonder lies.

Margot Sonia, grade 7



It’s me.

Not the me you saw that cold Fall evening,

when you pulled me from the ground,

thinking it might bring me back.

But you didn’t find me.

You found a pale face,

darkened by the demons,

tearing at my bare flesh.

But she’s not me.

I’m not that rosy face,

the one they laughed at,

reddened by the love I felt towards you.


That girl,

She’s not me.
I’m not that pile of ashes

that you sprinkled in the lake

the one where I took my last breath,

the one where I drowned in the darkness of my thoughts.

She’s not me.

I’m the shadow that follows you,

The memories.

For that is the only part of me that hasn’t perished.

Sophie Atkins, grade 7


The Unwanted Toy

There it lay

peeling from the

relentless sun

coated with

a film of dust.

Missing a wheel

and with a

broken axle, too,

no one wants it.

In despair, it

goes its days

hoping a better fate

is in its future.

Now with a

home to name own

and the watchful eye

of a compatible soul,

it plays its content

because life isn’t

perfect, but

how you handle it

gets you close


With a red

glossy glow

and a new

shiny wheel,

a wish fulfilled

echoes a star-filled,

joyous night.

Eric D’Eon, grade 7



I stand there every day,



My toes, sticky with gum,

mindlessly thrown onto my steel body.

I’m stuck in the same position,

my jammed gun welded onto my shoulder.


as children pass by smiling but not at me.

Someway I will move,

but not willingly.

I will not move to stretch,

Not to deliver my hidden message.

I will move to a new prison,

trapped in a fountain.




Andrew Spratt, grade 7


Death of a Marshmallow

Help me!

They’ll burn off my skin,

Boil me until I melt!

In chocolate.

I was always taught to fear it.

“Hot Chocolate”

It makes me hot just thinking about it.


They’re putting me in.

Here I go.

Tell my parents I have always loved them

Because I will die today.

But my sticky sweet soul will blend

With the creamy and rich essence

Of hot chocolate.

How bittersweet is the death

Of a marshmallow.

Sarah Leonard, grade 7



Every night I wish

To the clock at 11:11

To shooting stars in the sky.

I wished for a time machine

For super speed

For a billion dollars.

But none of my wishes ever came true.

I tried harder

Wishing on dandelions

Wishing on four leaf clovers

Wishing on birthday candles.

But still, none of them came true.

But one day

I wished for someone else

And it came true!

Even though I couldn’t see it coming true

I could feel it

Deep in my bones

Like a strike of lightning

I realized then that all of my wishes had already come true.

I was healthy

I was happy

I had people who loved me.

I went to school and one day would have a job

I had power to speak out.

I also realized that my wishes would never be answered

Because wishes were reserved for those less fortunate

Those who were


Sad, Unloved and Lonely.

Those without an education who might never get a job,

Those whose voice is blocked by others.

So, I still wish every day and every night

Only now it’s never for myself.

Elise DiTullio, grade 7



Top Cheddar

Flying down the ice is an opposing player,

My defense is useless as per usual,

Zooming on down the middle, puck on his stick.

Readying myself

The player skates in

As is come out of my crease I think

Why don’t I mix it up a bit?

The player tries to





And Dodge

But I just waited him out.

He starts his final skate up and begins to dangle

He gets closer.

I wait.

He’s at the hashmarks.

I wait.

Finally, he makes his final move. It’s to the right.

I smile and being the most epic save of all time

Slide to the right

Fall back

Bring one pad over the other and

Stack. The. Pads.

I hear the shot fly off his stick a second later and brace for the impact

But it never comes.

I look back and see the puck suspended in the top of the net.

Top Cheddar.

Blake Winsmann, grade 8


Ode to Hockey Skates

When I lace you up, skates,

I get an amazing feeling.

As you get

Tighter and


It feels like power and explosiveness,

like I can do anything.

I can smell a stench of opportunity,

hard work,

and effort.

When I put you on I think of

all the hard work

I put in to make me better,

and it all comes down to these moments.

My mind is soley on the game.

I can feel a sense of



I explode onto the rink.

The steel blades dig deep

into the fresh ice.

It’s the most tremendous feeling.

I could not live without you.

Hockey would not be played.

Ice would have no point.

It would just stand forever,

No reason for cold air,

Absolutely no reason for me,

My life would be pointless.

You are the greatest, skates.

Jack Wanamaker, grade 8



I lay there motionless.

I am always here.

Every day the same routine.

I am frozen.

No one cares.

I am paralyzed.

No one sees.

I am transfixed.

No one hears.

I am always there for you.

I am stepped over,

stomped on.

The weight on my shoulders,

Is too much to bear.

Almost everyone forgets about me.

It’s a pity,

you’d think.

I never get a thank you,

or a sorry.

But why would I,

I am just a floor.

Sydney Machado and Haley May, grade 8


Turning Shoes

I can’t live without you.

the pointed, turned out feet

you helped me show.

The perfect turns you helped me perform.

You make me a better dancer.

My performance triples in

energy, elegance, and emotion.

I can taste the determination

as it drips down my face.

When I slip you on, I am

thrilled to get up and dance.

The assurance that these shoes won’t fall off

is the best in the world.

When I slide you across the floor,

I hear my instructor: 5, 6, 7, 8.

When I don’t turn,

the world doesn’t turn,

and my world would be in darkness without you.

Amy Doran, grade 8



Quixotic Thoughts

I tell you things I haven’t even told myself


Leaving thoughts set out on the table with their utensils ready for you to digest

A feast of inner fears and deepest desires

Lovely words that turn into actions as directions

speak and cars swerve

& the edge is too close to see in hindsight

& there’s seconds between

Want and need & youth is a poison we both drink

& it’s the way to cope with existence & sometimes

minds think alike & and why

can’t this end the way I

Want it to & sleep is all my

Eyelash wishes

It’s turned into a phenomenon and and and

And and I lose a word again because of the misty moonlight through

These glass cages

Dreams are now yet you remain above

Away from the world

Seeking the thoughts that will block reality

Wasting your livelihood for numbness and

Blind optimism

And it’s not bad but it’s not real and why

Does it have to end

Giving everything only to be slightly shoved

In a crowded hallway

Because almost is never absolute and

Dreams rarely come to fruition when

People are involved

So aim not to care

Deviate from what every synapse tells you

After these words and don’t let it

Block you from forming thin veils of smoke

That eventually break into a home of youth

And mystery


When you finally wake up years from now

Know that caring wasn’t the worst fate

Pretending not to was

Isabel Stringfellow, grade 11     



I’ve been taken to a place

where the grass is always greener;

a constant sun engulfs the land,

but the wind whispers of fever.

Such blissfulness insinuates

a sap within my bones

that dissolves the cries and courtesies

of dangers deafly told.

And to the wind’s forewarning

of red feelings brought to flame,

I say, what is there to fear

if love and pain are all the same?

Haley Neff, grade 11


On College

May God be praised for college

That enlightens those inside

Nowhere else can knowledge

So liberally abide.

It introduces freedom

As leaping off a cliff

So young men would be dumb

Not to dive into that rift.

Yet looming lies the end

That is the fall’s conclusion.

Count the dollars that they spend

That’s the force of their collision.

Advisors say “investment,”

So blindly on we go.

When we had reassessed it

Would then our course be so?

I heard stories of wild parties

And late nights remembered dear,

Until my eyes grew starry

Above the lower glows of fear.

But an arrow pierced that phalanx;

The thought that later I will rue

Glancing at my balance

And seeing a dragon’s treasure due.

Then Damocles swap lives,

For I would rather wait

Upon a death by hanging knives

Than flames that shan’t abate.

No money then to burn a hole

In empty pockets ignited

By a fiery debt that swallows whole

The man that cannot right it.

Damocles at least gained wealth,

By taking on such stress.

But I will trade my future health

For joy, a job or less.

Then pounding frustration,

As life slants unfree.

The pomegranate of damnation

Has such juicy seeds.

Oh college — both parts fortune and dross.

A necessity, that is perhaps the truth,

But O God, at what cost

Comes that opportunity and prolonged youth.

Isaac Bleecker, Grade 12

For more information on this program, or on SBWC, please contact us at, or contact Karen Silverthorn, at Thayer Memorial Library, at 978-368-8928, ext. 4.