Autumn Morning

I step outside, feeling the sting of the cold, harsh wind.

I look out in front of me and see my long drive way covered with leaves of every color. They are cold and crunchy, they break as I step on them. The sun breaks through the foggy, grey sky, providing minimum warmth. It’s cold, but I don’t mind, the harsh wind feels good as it blows against my skin, opening up my pores. The trees look almost dead, a few of the leaves have fallen off the trees, and the bark is a dark brown. The fog is hard to see through, it is especially thick today. It honestly reminds me of a ghostly horror story outside. I’m not scared though, those are my favorite kinds of days, I find them in a strange way relaxing and calming. I take a breath in, the cold air stings my throat but the cold smoky air coming out of my mouth looks cool, so it makes up for the stinging throat. I look forward to these types of Autumn mornings, though not very common, I know they will come again in the future.

Allie’s Shack

It was mid-to late October of last year in the hazy town of Newport North Carolina. My best friend Allie and I decided to go to her house after returning from the beach. As we turned on to her street, we saw all the stoners outside their houses smoking, the burning tips of their cigarettes lit up the darkening sky, as the smoke rose silently into the cool blowing night air. See, Allie lived in one of the most drug- infested neighborhoods in Newport. It was filled with crappy old cars, old trailers that looked like they were going to collapse at any given moment, and a bunch of random cats running up and down the streets. Since it was October, a few houses did have bright orange jack lanterns smiling that creepy smile on their doorsteps, but that was about it for the decorations. As we pulled into Allies drive way, I could see her cat Louie, lying there on the couch, looking out the window at us. Louie is probably the fattest cat I have ever seen. When he walks, his belly touches the ground, literally. He looks like Garfield because he is orange too. When we got in, we went into her room to watch one of my favorite movies of all time, The Rocky Horror Picture Show. It was playing on Logo at eleven pm, so we had about an hour to kill. We ordered Chinese take-out, and downloaded some music on Allies beyond crappy computer. It was one of those old ones that moved super slow and took forever to load the internet. Of course, it took a little while any way to find one of the neighbors’ Wi-Fi signals, because Allie didn’t have Wi-Fi in her house, she just stole her neighbors’ signal and that took some time. I finally got the thing to load all the way, and started looking up some good music to download, Allie was sitting on her twin size bed eating the take-out, and watching T.V.

All was good until about 1:30am. Next door, some people were having a costume party. Allie, of course, decided to slingshot candy at all the non-sober people outside. She hit one guy right in the eye and he started screaming at her and charging toward the window on Allie’s wall. We shut it quick, but he still banged on it and screamed like crazy at us to open up. It was quite ironic because he was dressed like an axe murderer, and I really think he wanted to slice us. He had I think fake blood all over his face and body, and he was wearing crappy, ripped clothing, and carrying a rusty old axe. Eventually he went away back to the party after much threats directed toward us.

But of course, at around 3:30am, he came back for no reason, only this time trying to break open the front door! Allie and I were scared out of our minds. I really don’t know how he didn’t break in, Allie’s house was more like a large shack combined with a trailer, the type of thing you would expect to find in such neighborhoods. After about three minutes of banging, the noise just stopped, and everything went silent.

When we woke up the next morning, we found the guy passed out on the front porch. Allie and I just stared at him, we tried to poke him with a stick, but nothing. I guess it was all okay because when we came back from a drive that afternoon, he was gone, but that was pretty creepy, even for Halloween season in Allie’s neighborhood.

Seasons of Life

By Adam Liberty

I wake up and go outside, just to see the colors of the world. Its insane wouldn’t you say? The leaves change color so fast you almost suddenly notice what is happening. They go from being green, to yellow, red, even orange. When the wind blows you can see the leaves fall from the trees like rain in a thunderstorm. I’d say it’s amazing, but I cannot help to think about what is actually happening. The trees are dying or at least going into hibernation for the winter like the bears do. The n when the air starts getting warm again the leaves blossom and grow more and more every day as children do getting larger everyday they live until they reach the point where growing is no longer a possibility and they are adults and have responsibilities like giving living thing in the world oxygen so that they can live and grow and some day have responsibilities of there own. The process of life is amazing.

A Revival (Final)

time goes by without me knowing.
the day is bright and young but i feel ragged and sleep-less.
a minor earthquake occurs as i drop my school bag, releasing the weight of the week past.
i look across the road to see two boys in their youth, lost in happiness.
a constant reminder of the simple joys i now miss.
where has the time gone?
what is to come for me in the future?
take me back to the days of my youth.
an epiphany, a change of mind as i run out the front door and across the street.
a pool of vibrant reds, yellows, and oranges awaits my entrance.
a perfect dive, hardly a splash is seen as i reattain a missing aspect of my youth.
this is right.
the pieces of my joy fit right into place as i am swallowed by this mass representation of autumn

A Walk Into the Fog (Final)

Looking out into the morning fog I see nothing at all, knowing what is beyond the gray haze I simply walk the thin, slightly uphill, blazed trail, beginning my morning. As I continue on my way and wait for the fog to disappear I realize I have reached my beautiful destination. I am high up on a rural bluff, above everything I know, above the large trees, above the small vibrant town, above the red brick school, above my white colonial house. Nothing matters but what I am waiting to see. Now I am met with vibrant colors, first a construction grade orange, then bumble bee yellow, and lastly a burning red. As these explosions appear from every direction the mother of all rises to its peak; a blazing sun greets me burning off whatever is left of the fog. This is Autumn and I am experiencing a well known discovery of New England. Later in the morning as I begin my casual return down the slight incline, the fog has died and dried. A flock of geese fly overhead quacking as they head to warmer weather. I am left with a cushion of crunchy leaves to lead me back to my starting point. An average morning for one who takes the time to enjoy the wonders of a season that is often over-looked.

The Painting (Final)

Each color, each brush has a different purpose of the puzzle. A fine tipped brush, the thin details of each hair on a person head. One by one, each line, each curve, is put together to make a piece of art that people will be admiring. The painting will send a slightly different message to everybody who looks at this painting. Hundreds. Thousands will be looking at this painting. Scanned many many eyes.

Free (Final)

Windows down so I can hear the engines 400 horses. The car roars with ferocity. Not going anywhere specific, I have all of the time in the world. Just driving. Just the 67 Camaro and I. Everyone that passes, twisting their neck with their jaw dropped, admiring the car. Staring at the jet-black body with racing stripes going from bumper to bumper. Cleaned to a slick shine, polished to perfection. Each detail, the things that you don’t see on any other muscle car give it character. The speed is unbelievable. Before I know it I’m at 70 mph, I blink and I’m at 80. I keep going, 90. 100, I’m at the point where I can’t tell the colors of the cars I pass. The feeling is great; it’s amazing. I feel as if I have complete control over the world. I am free and nobody can tell me what to do.

Violently Running

By Adam

It was Halloween night, I was running violently in the blacked out forest from someone. I didn’t know who. He was enormous. At least six foot seven, 300 pounds. He wore an old ripped up ski mask like you would see in the cheesy horror movies, but if you were in my position it wouldn’t seem so cheesy. He was wearing this horribly nasty black nylon suit that was filthy with blood from his prior victim. As devastating as it would still be I wished that it were just another scary Halloween prank. In the back of my mind I knew that was not the reality I was hoping for. I knew because the reflection his knife gave off when it came in contact with the light screamed the actuality of this predicament even louder then I was screaming desperately for help with every vein in my face and neck bulging out two inches and saliva shooting from my mouth. I ran for what felt like miles but I finally lost him. I stopped to catch my breath. I glanced over to my left and caught the sight of a dead body. It had given me that sick feeling in my stomach when you get humiliated in front of 100 people and all you want to do is puke that projectile puke. His eyes were wide open as if he had seen a ghost, well if he was a victim of the guy that was after me I know how he feels. His mouth was also open, and his head was severed from his body and his body from his legs. It was one big bloody mess. The masked man had painted the world red. His guts were hanging from his stomach like clothes on a clothesline. His skin was extremely pale white from the stop of blood flow and loss of blood from being mauled by this beast that was living inside a human’s body.

Everyone's Favorite Season

Oddly a lot of people's favorite season is summer. Why when fall is so much better?

True, in summer we have three months off from school and it’s the perfect time to go to the beach, but there are those days where it’s too hot to even go to the beach. The whether practically has mood swings between the nice days, rain or days where it’s to sticky to go outside.

During fall there are tons of things going on that make it much better than summer. Fall is really everyone’s favorite time of the year, but they just don’t like to admit it. The best part is, no doubt, when the leaves change color. It’s something that everyone needs to see in their lives because nothing in the world can even come close to being as amazing as a New England Fall. All the colors of the leaves are just magnificent. They truly show how gorgeous life is and how the seasons are unique times that deserve to be appreciated.

A Compromising Autumn

Winter has never claimed to be an advocate of amnesty
Summer holds fast to the notion that it believes in warmth and brightness
Spring has the audacity to deem every year worthy of a renaissance; a fresh start
But Autumn is the least adamant of the four
uncertain where she belongs in the system of beliefs
between windsongs and whispers; hellfire and wholly innocent; life and what comes next; indistinguishable
and so she tries only to find a medium for a swayed conviction would compromise her caution

Free

Windows down so I can hear all 400 horses. Not going anywhere specific or not in a rush. Just driving. Just the 67 Camaro and I. Everyone that passes, twisting their neck with their jaw dropped, admiring the car. Staring at the jet-black body with racing stripes. Before I know it I’m at 70 mph, I blink and I’m at 80. I keep going, 90. 100, I’m at the point where I can’t tell the colors of the cars I pass. The feeling is great; it’s unbelievable. I feel as if I have complete control over the world. Nobody can tell me what to do, I am free.

Pumpkin

The yellow flower opened, long ago, it blossomed and then wilted. And when it fell away from the green vine, a small green sphere remained. At first it was nothing, the size of a grape. But, slowly at first, and then faster and faster, it began to grow. It bulged and swelled, seeming far too large for the vine that held it. Then, the color began to change. From mossy green, to a greenish yellow, to a yellow orange, and finally settling on a thick orange. As leaves gathered around it, and the warm summer air changed to a crisp fall, the pumpkin sat proudly in its patch. Its future was unsure, whether it would be a pie, or bread, or a jack-o-lantern. But for that day in autumn, it just sat and enjoyed the day.

Leaf

By Taylor Cloutier

The leaves are turning

turning red, orange, yellow, and brown.

Slowly they drift from top to bottom.

Fall is waving goodbye to the old and welcoming the new.

There is no choice for it to stay...

it is moving on to a
new chapter,
new life,
new horizon,
a new beginning.

Its time to go.

Its time to fall.

The Painting

Each color, each brush has a different purpose of the puzzle. One by one, each line, each curve, is put together to make a piece of art that people will be admiring. Each person gets a different message, a different emotion from the painting.

Pumpkins

By Taylor Cloutier

The glow of two eyes pierces you.

A nose points you where to go

A smile, missing teeth is stained where my knife slipped.

The face reminds you of what you came for, why you're here: Halloween.

The night comes once a year; the night calls all the monsters.

It is the night we live for, the night we fear.

Its the night never to forget.

It's Halloween!

apple picking

Apple Picking- Jessie Marston


Bright blue skies, no clouds are gray
sun warms my skin though the breeze snags it away
the old apple trees, decorated with apples
so red, and perfect thousands just hanging
just waiting to be picked and taken away
one crunchy bite and I become attentive to the world around me
juicy and sweet the taste infects my mouth
it's the best of treats on this great apple picking day

Halloween

Those familiar streets are left gloomy, only lit by

Dozens of hand carved pumpkins,

Standing stout on their walkway,

Revealing that fresh, rich aroma.

The sound of faded giggles gather between the night,

while the crunch of brittle leaves under me fuse with the wind,

Whispering steadily, and desirably.

Footsteps of black cats, super heroes, and princesses meet the pavement,

their chilled hands, gripped to their evenings souvenirs.

And that's when I know it’s Halloween,

The sleepy sky and cool air promise me so.

Pumpkins

Leaf

I stand under the tree, staring up into the leaves which are trembling and quivering. I wonder if they are terrified of the leap they are about to make. One by one they hurl themselves from the branches, spinning and tumbling through the air. Months ago, they were a bright green, warmed by the bright summer sun. But now they are all different, a spectrum of red, orange, and yellow. And now, instead of wearing a healthy shine, they are dry and crackly, crunching under foot. And then there is the smell. A breeze ruffles the branches, and the smell seems to swirl around me. A sweet, warm smell. The mixture of dry leaves and ripe fruit, it is what I have come to know as the smell of autumn.

Autumn Haiku

Yellow, Orange, Red
Gently flowing in the breeze
looping to the ground

Autumnal Romance

Draped in the solace of knit sweaters adorned with patchwork pumpkins and stitched-with-love scarecrows
Graced with the docile cascades of the sap-stained papery love letters of a summer’s heartbreak
Enchanted by love ballads strummed effortlessly on the tree branches by gentle hands of a changing wind
Doused with the perfume of transition from living to lifeless

and the silent purgatory that rests in uncertainty between the two
Enamored with the simple complexity of the romance of life and life itself

Foliage

The warm sunny summer days seem to fade away

As the school year begins and Autumn arrives.

Shades of deep reds and bright oranges fill my view, and

The forgotten leaves that were once green follow the wind's path,

As the brown, tired branches grip onto autumn’s gift.

The familiar same grass is hidden, holding onto summers

secrets, and greeted by the fallen leaves,

Scattered around everywhere perfectly.

Autumn is hard to ignore like this.

fall mornings

Fall mornings - Jessie Marston

The warm fire burning inside
smells of wood and hot apple cider
the breezy outdoors, makes me cold and I shiver
cuddled up inside my cape of warmth
eyes slightly closed
while I listen to the whispers of the wind racing between the old apple orchard
my apple cider is hot, the steam curls up to my nose
blow on it slowly, fog blinds my glasses
on the chilly fall day, I tend to drift away.

#4. (Re-Write Different Format)
time goes by without my knowledge
the day is bright and young yet I feel old and frail
weighed down by the constant call of school work
i look across the road
in plain sight are two young boys jumping in leave piles
i have a constant reminder of the simple joys i now miss
where has the time gone?
what is to come for me in the future?
take me back to the days of my youth

#2. (Re-write Different Format)
Looking out into the morning fog I see nothing at all, knowing what is beyond the gray haze I simply walk the thin blazed trail and wait. I start my day early, approximately five in the morning with coffee and a walk into this cool surrounding fog. As I wait for the fog to disappear I realize I have reached my destination. I am high above everything I know, above the large trees, above the small vibrant town, above the red brick school, above my white colonial house, nothing matters but what I am waiting to see. Now I am met with vibrant colors, first a construction grade orange, then bumble bee yellow, and lastly a red. Explosions appearing from every direction. It is Autumn and I am experiencing a well known discovery of New England. It is later in the morning now, the fog has died and dried and I am left with a cushion of crunchy leaves to lead me back to my starting point. An average morning for one who takes the time to enjoy the wonders of a season that is often over-looked.

Autumn Admiration

Last night you fell asleep after the coldest, rainiest night you've seen since last spring. During the middle of the night you careen out of bed to find that hearty blanket you know will keep you warm. Surreal. As you lie in bed, listening for the trickling sounds of the rain tapping the roof, suddenly you realize the rain has stopped. The torrent has passed. This comforts you and finally you fall back to sleep.

Sun floods your eyes. The sun has risen and light seeps into your soul: a welcome change after a day of precipitation. You can hear the song birds chirping, preparing for the long journs in their near future. You toss on some clothing; its time to examine the results of yesterday's storm. Once outside you walk onto your lawn, immediately your shoes become saturated with the left over moisture, rejected by the soil. You look up and it hits you. The trees are almost bare, their leaves have been shed.
You now understand that fall has come and is almost gone. Every moment must be enjoyed, every color admired.

Apple

Autumn

Elegant