In January, Advanced Placement English Literature and Composition Students in Room 100 wrote their own villanelle poems and the results were FABULOUS. According to Poets.org, "The highly structured villanelle is a nineteen-line poem with two repeating rhymes and two refrains. The form is made up of five tercets followed by a quatrain. The first and third lines of the opening tercets are repeated alternately in the last lines of the succeeding stanzas; then in the final stanza, the refrain serves as the poem's concluding lines." Students took this fixed poetic form and created powerful poems that not only illustrate their talents, but also the depth of their new-found appreciation of poetry.
The Midnight River Lillian Slajus Oh I wish my mind could be put to bed. Thoughts have been crashing all day Like a river rushing in my head. Vibrant waves of blue and red If only these thoughts were more gray. Oh I wish my mind could be put to bed. Why can’t my head be still like lead? Ideas flood on and on moving away Like a river rushing in my head. Tearing down the banks, lightly they do not tread My brain will soon start to fray. Oh I wish my mind could be put to bed. The current speeds up and I start to fill with dread. Thoughts crash into my mind’s bay Like a river rushing in my head. I hang on by a battered thread But sweeping me away, my thoughts will not allay. Like a river rushing in my head Oh I wish my mind could be put to bed. When you are in love with your best friend Santina Bianco When you are in love with your best friend Everything just feels so right You feel this way till the very end The two of you just seem to blend You have a connection that's incredibly tight When you are in love with your best friend He will always be there to defend You want to be together every single night You feel this way till the very end Every day you think about marriage and play pretend You know everything will turn out alright When you are in love with your best friend This is the person who you most depend He is the sun to your light You feel this way till the very end Through thick and thin your love will amend He makes everything seem so bright When you are in love with your best friend You feel this way till the very end The Father Emma Voss With gentle care, the Father tending, Sends out blessings on the wings of a dove. The poorest souls he seeks for mending. Upon their response the Creator pending; The name he calls his children is beloved. With gentle care, the Father tending. A gracious hand he offers lending, Bare and naked, without a glove. The poorest souls he seeks for mending. Through faith and hope, earth is bending Seeking righteousness from above. With gentle care the Father tending. Everyday his graces are sending With hope, his children accept his free gift of love. The poorest souls he seeks for mending. And on that day when life is ending, Paradise becomes reality and no longer dreamt of. With gentle care, the Father tending, The poorest souls he seeks for mending. | What does the future hold? Marinda Bottesi Doors will open, doors will close. What does the future hold? Nobody knows. Don’t give in to the world’s throws, Even if the future is untold. Doors will open, doors will close. The future won’t be sweet as a rose; You have to wait for it to unfold. Nobody knows. This is the way the world goes- Completely uncontrolled. Doors will open, doors will close. You’ll be struck with “yes’s” and “no’s” Soon you’ll be consoled. Nobody knows. The future never slows Be prepared for whatever it may hold. Doors will open, doors will close. Nobody knows. “Following Autumn…” Eli Martonen In the wake of Autumn the winter months follow, A time of darkness and cold, So dreary, our souls become hollow. The discernment is arduous to swallow, The long, grey days briskly grow old. In the absence of lovingness, all life wallows. The joy of life, winter borrows. Its icy grip to us is sold, A grip of snow, and a grip of sorrow. Ever do we wait for summer’s heat, Confined within for these days in life. Mindful that winter’s clutch cannot be beat. Unfortunately, we have no way to cheat. Annually facing the wrath of winter’s strife, Until the thaw of spring we one day meet. Seeing there’s nothing we can do to rebel, The cold cuts into us like a surgical knife. On summer’s warmth we wait, and dwell. Braving the cold of winter, we pretend we’re well All the Writing Brings Jessica Babb Words flow like a stream Plucked from all the wakened dreams Continuous, endless rhyme. The choice takes longer than it seems Pictures and stories begin to weave Words flow like a stream Villains as old and bitter as lime Every hero has just enough time Continuous, endless rhyme Untold riches that gleam Everyone has their own team Words flow like a stream In every story one harsh crime In fairy tales clock towers chime Continuous, endless rhyme Words flow like a stream Plucked from all the wakened dreams Shaped and molded over time Continuous, endless rhyme. |