Writing From Roseau

Wonder Like a Woman
By Skyllar Schoening

Grade 10

She entertains endlessly

Too strong to stop.

She sleeps like a tree

But when the clock tick-tocks,

It’s up and out the door.

Cares and concerns

Are continuous


She loves others

Without end

She is my rock,

And I love her.


Money, Lights, and Adolescence
By Skyllar Schoening

Las Vegas…

A place I didn’t like

But, now that I think about it,

I’ve fallen in love with.

The big lights

Flashing to all the consumers,

Ready to spend a dollar.

And another dollar.

And another dollar.

Before they realize

Their beloved money is gone,

And sucked right into the machine.

The performers

Dance swiftly,

But not in any rush

But instead with purpose.

Las Vegas…

I can’t wait to be sucked up

Into your tourist trap.



Love, Hope… Like a Flickering Fire
By: Tracy Meixner

It lies in our souls
Brightening, Dimming
Growing, Shrinking
Dancing a heavenly waltz
Known for its burning feet
Ashening the hearts of men
On a timber fireplace
Within once lively forest
Now a new kind of lively
Lying there
To grow
And be dimmed again.


By: Tracy Meixner

It is like this
Walking with an uneasy pit
Hearing the sobs of family for their lost one
Names engraved on each stone
Stones marking the long gone
Until I am alone, it seems
Eerie silence throughout the court-like graveyard
Everything gray, dusty, dirty, depressing
Essence of those who once were
Chatting chirpily
Walking a wavered flow
Now gone
But not forgotten.


On the edge of the world
By T-roy Monkman

I am a place who many can see and do quite often, but none can ever truly come to me, visit me, they can only look and wish they could. Many speak of me saying they will reach me one day, they can’t, they can only watch me from a distance and try, in vain of course, to get closer, for I am untouchable, unforgettable, yet, inconsequential. I am…


North Rink
by Chase Reed

It is like this this

The cold concrete walls

The foggy glass gleaming

The black and blue rubber floors

The smell of the moldy mats in the air

The worn down wood bleachers on the side

The rafters that are holding up the thin tin roof

The sound of the players skates cutting through the ice

Never wanting the leave this wonderful place that we love.


I Dream of Black Paper
by Seraphina Johnstun

If I were a crayon, the color I would be is white

(not by choice, but by the way things are):

Hardly used, unless to fill in spaces, and otherwise invisible

I’m still pretty sharp because I’m seldom included––or seen––

With the rest of the rainbow of colors on crisp, white paper

I dream of the rare piece of black paper

That proves to me and the rest of the colors

That I am not useless, I am important, special, wanted, useful

That I am needed

Sometimes I wait for a long time

I’m afraid that one day, there will be no black paper anymore

And I’ll be as useless as I sometimes feel

So I hope and dream of black paper

The one thing that brings out my true color

And, for a while,

Makes me feel like I belong.


by Seraphina Johnstun

It stretches like a string,

Tauter and tauter until it snaps

It molds in our hands like clay

Its shape depending on the holder’s dream

It crosses like an intersection, a lonely road

That only a few people cross together (though everyone is supposed to)

It shimmers in the air, a glittering, rainbow bubble

Easy to pop and hard to regain

It can be recreated, though fragile as ever

And no one regrets holding it in their hands

It is for lovers, family, friends

And for ourselves.


Trust in Trees
By Matthew Larson

They protect us from the sun

without thinking of us

They give us breathable air

when we give them carbon

They let us climb them

when we want to play

When we break them

They don’t get angry

When we want them to go

they let us cut them down

That is why we love them.


Fear Like Fire
by Danielle Sibilleau

It starts small,

but one doesn’t know where it’s going.

It moves fast,

might be faster than you.

Don’t know when it starts,

nor how it ends.

You don’t think of it,

till it has already happened.

It’s wild,

goes where it wants.

It doesn’t seem to mind what’s in the way,

or what it’s leaving behind.

It might start small.


by Danielle Sibilleau

One step and you hear the birds

the chirping and flying

You hear the bees buzz

Leaves whistling in the wind

Your hair.



by Lee Campbell

you can always be different frigid wind

brisk storms weekly so cold winter. You

are always after blizzards you have to

clean up for the next bitter storm

but always you know it a miracle

and a winter wonderland.


By Gracie Drown

Staring at the stars on a cold summer night

Laying in the grass that’s damp from the dew

Being overwhelmed by how vast the universe is

But somehow it also makes you feel calm

The cool breeze washes over your body

Smelling the cool, crisp air

And hearing the crickets chirp

As you look at the constellations.


Anxiety is like a bomb
By: Lindsey weber

It’s just waiting to go off and destroy everything.

It makes you fear for when it will happen.

It has no warning,

and when it does explode it leaves you in shambles.




It Is..
By Kelsey Senum

it is like this..
just the sound of the wind howling.
not a person in sight.
all I see are the grey tombstones,
fake flowers beside them.
the smell of fresh cut green grass.
the feeling of my blanket beneath me.
I know he is here.
he is just..


Devon Dybedahl

Courage is like a Mountain

Stands tall and strong.

Can be cold every now and then.

Never being put down.

Always out there.



Just there.

Never hiding.

Ever present.

Striking fear into fear itself.


Love like Fire
By Brock Byfuglien

It burns in our pit creating black ash

And blows gray smoke into the air

It makes houses and trees collapse

We cook and roast with it

We tell stories and laugh around it

At night we dance and have a good time by it.


Rylie Bjerklie

My cold house:


house is

really cold but

that is the way my

mom likes it so it is



By Elijah Montana

Slow melody, boom, pound

So real, so perfect you can almost touch it

Grand climax, music dies, silence, ears ringing

Press play, lyrics echo, low hum, relief flushes the body

Boom, pound, the melody starts again.




By Charlene Grahn

To me is another language.
Not everyone understands,
But I do.
Music speaks to me.
Music tells me the
story of those
who are broken.
Music tells me the
Story of those
who are strong.
Music changes the atmosphere.
Music can change a walk in the woods
To a walk through wonderland.
Music shares the same moods with me.
Music can be happy.
Music can be gloomy.
Music can change a person.

Philippine Missing
By Charlene Grahn

I miss the Philippines.
I miss the friends I would
Walk to school.
I miss napping,
Waiting for my friends
To return.
I miss all the games
We played.
It felt as like I was
Reliving my childhood.
I miss the elderly couple
Who greeted me every morning
When I walked to the
Home-owned bakery
To buy fresh bread.
I miss the children
Who were excited
To see a foreigner
And treated me with
Complete respect.


Mountains like infinity
By Cayden Loken

It feels like forever

Too far to travel upon

It feels like projects

to do, takes forever

It can take forever, if

you don’t make it and

start over again, forever

It reminds us for our

lives , forever.



by Brutus Grindahl

Trust is like a mountain

if you break trust doing something

by mistake or on purpose

it all goes down pretty hard

just like an avalanche.


Happiness is like bubblegum
By Kilah LaPlante

Sweet and juicy.

Full of flavor.

Never-ending taste and smell.

So good to have.

By Kilah LaPlante

Golfing, the way of my life

On a wonderful summer day

Lovely spring breeze

First or last hole, the way of my life.


Modesty Like a Mountain
By Gabrielle Johnson

Shape shifted from the Earth,

Never two alike.

It’s a rebirth of your life.

Staying honest,

Never lies,

Doesn’t say goodbye.

Covered with snow,

Like glitter that glows.

Integrity alike,

This hunk of Earth would

Never hurt a soul.

And I’m telling you so.

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