Dead Pens

By D.G. Snapper

Oh no!

Not again.

Why me?

This pen!

I unscrew the lid

And check the ink holder

The color is all there

But angered, the author

Dead_Pens

The pen I rebuild

Then place on the table

It should work

But why isn’t it able?

[Read more…]

When My Lungs Burn

By Melinda Delamarter

I see you

You’re standing at the edge of this forest

Terrified

The entire world has already passed through

They’re living their lives on the other side in peaceful bliss

Unaware

Of the terror you go through every morning

Struggling to face the uncertainties that rise up and slap you every second

Unaware

Of the agony it takes for you to crawl out of bed each time the sun rises

Even though you know you’re facing seventeen hours of gut-wrenching pain

When_My_Lungs_Burn

[Read more…]

Hyperspace

Captain’s Log,

Stardate 70797.4

For thirteen hours and twenty-four minutes,

we have tailed the cosmic trail

of the vandalizing devils

who dared damage our ship’s hyperdrive.

I stare out the glass and into the black

that seems to be the color of my mood.

Hyperspace

The surrounding clusters of gas and rock,

stars, asteroids—

such maddening technicality—

are insistently scattered in our way.

My growing impatience covets an audience

with the supernova responsible.

Clean up after yourself, you haphazard accident!

[Read more…]

Profile photo of Cindy
Cindy Green is a Canadian homeschool student who wants to live in a world where rain is colorful and mint chocolate chip ice cream is acceptable for daily consumption. But she is contented to live in one where dogs exist, fireworks are a regular occurrence, and trees are climbable objects (though the winter season is consistently extended in the land of igloos and hockey, she has climbed trees in her snowsuit before, and she will do it again). She began scribbling out fiction and keeping a journal at around age seven, and last she checked, hasn’t stopped. Aside from obsessing over the arrangement of words and fantasizing about maple-syrup-coated beavertails, Cindy enjoys spending time playing piano, looking at pictures of outer space, loudly singing along to music, exploring the dictionary, attempting Highland dancing, and reading. She hopes to someday publish a book of her own, learn to skateboard without getting scraped, and witness the aurora borealis in the Yukon. Most of all, she wants to live her life colorfully and passionately for the glory of a good God and to point to her Creator as the source of all joy.

Seventeen

By Hannah Whatley

When I was a child, I spoke as a child;

I acted and thought and felt as a child,

But then I turned seventeen.

Seventeen

Seventeen—Oh, the great and glorious mystery,

Between the realms of infancy and maturity;

The questions of life that shape our future history

Are laid unadorned before us—Oh, the treachery

[Read more…]

Faith

By KayleighAnne Stanton

“What is faith?” my teacher asked,

his brow furrowed in wonder.

He didn’t know how I stayed strong

while the world was pulled asunder.

I could have given him a simple answer,

but instead I did not.

Faith

For Christ is king and died for me—

and that He would have not.

So I looked at him and smiled,

and began at the place to start,

sharing a song from my very heart.

[Read more…]

Majesty Complete

 By Joy Peklenk

The ground I stand on shrinks below my feet

As does my soul and my great worlds inside

As I gaze up to majesty complete

To glowing specks of fire that melt my pride

Majesty_Complete

How distant are those hypnotizing dots

How radiant those terrible ghosts of light

And all of this land’s sights and sounds, they rot

When my young eyes and those ghost lights unite

[Read more…]

Greenflower

A sunflower grows

in the melting blue of an ombré pot

on the windowsill of my sunlit room.

The suggestion of my supportive friends

Greenflower

is advice I can attest to:

It benefits a plant

if you talk to it

and sing to it,

and whether it’s owed to the music of my voice,

or the carbon dioxide brimming from my lips,

I talk anyway,

and I wonder

if it would help me grow

if I could hear You talk to me.

[Read more…]

Profile photo of Cindy
Cindy Green is a Canadian homeschool student who wants to live in a world where rain is colorful and mint chocolate chip ice cream is acceptable for daily consumption. But she is contented to live in one where dogs exist, fireworks are a regular occurrence, and trees are climbable objects (though the winter season is consistently extended in the land of igloos and hockey, she has climbed trees in her snowsuit before, and she will do it again). She began scribbling out fiction and keeping a journal at around age seven, and last she checked, hasn’t stopped. Aside from obsessing over the arrangement of words and fantasizing about maple-syrup-coated beavertails, Cindy enjoys spending time playing piano, looking at pictures of outer space, loudly singing along to music, exploring the dictionary, attempting Highland dancing, and reading. She hopes to someday publish a book of her own, learn to skateboard without getting scraped, and witness the aurora borealis in the Yukon. Most of all, she wants to live her life colorfully and passionately for the glory of a good God and to point to her Creator as the source of all joy.

Queen of the Adriatic

By Emily Bunker

You are called the most wonderful Queen of the Sea,

And I say the city of water you be.

Crowned with the gold of many far lands,

The fate of the world’s wealth is in your hands.

Wide, clear-blue waterways, main streets they are,

Cool, damp back alleys, dirty and dark.

The former is told of, the latter is not;

The first is clean, without soiled spot.

It is transparent, crystalline blue,

And all of its merchants are honest and true.

[Read more…]

Echoes of Spring

By Moriah Simonowich

In beauty as elegant as a pearl,

Another day crisply unfurls.

Echoes_of_Spring

From God’s treasure house of gems

Come chill March winds,

Echoing the season of spring;

They whirl, twirl, and ring.

Clouds in transparent white wisps

Move about in drifts—

Sails billowing on a sea of blue;

In a sky of clearest hue.

[Read more…]

Vain

By D.G. Snapper

There once was a man from Vain

His life was focused on gain

He worked for his wants

It pleased him just once

And his countenance was blank as a pane

Vain

There once was a girl from Vain

Her escape came only from feign

She laughed and she tried

Only it was a lie

All she did went down the drain

[Read more…]