Celebratearts

Celebrate the Arts Eighth annual writing contest And the winners are ‌

Crazy Pets

By Aubrey Paes There lived an eight year old girl named Emma. She had no pets, but she really wanted a pet. Rabbits and birds were her favorite animals.

One day, Emma’s friend Saige came over and asked Emma if she would watch her two pets because she was going to dinner. Emma was excited, but a little nervous because she was wondering how much work it would be. Emma said, “Sure!” Saige gave Emma a box of toys to take care of the animals. Then, she gave Emma her rabbit and bird. Roo was a blue, nervous parakeet. Isabelle was a feisty, gray, spotted rabbit. Saige left the house and as soon as she left, the animals went crazy!

The rabbit, Isabelle, was struggling to get out of Emma’s arms.

Finally, she jumped out of her arms and hopped around. Emma tried putting the bird cage on its stand when Isabelle knocked into it. The water in Roo’s cage fell over and spilled on the floor. The rabbit went sliding and fell into the cage. The bird got scared and flapped all around. Emma had to let Roo out of the cage so she could calm her down. Roo flew everywhere around the house. Emma felt scared. She thought that this was way too much work.

There was water on the floor to clean up and the animals were loose. The rabbit was running into things and the bird was on the kitchen counter. Emma had to figure out a way to clean up the mess and get the animals under control.

Emma thought about the box of toys Saige gave her. She thought about how if she put the cage back up on its stand, she could put a toy in the cage for Roo to play with. She would also put a toy in the rabbit’s cage so they wouldn’t get crazy anymore. Once Emma put the animals in their cages and they had calmed down, she gave Isabelle a carrot and Roo some bird seed.

Then, it was time for the animals to go home. Saige asked, “How did it go?” Emma said, “The pets did fine but they got a little crazy.” Saige said, “Thank you” and she took her pets home.

After Saige went home, Emma thought she had more to learn on how to care for a pet, but she still really wanted one.

The Day the Color Had Gone

By Terry Zgirbar Hello. My name is Joshua, and I was born in Massachusetts, a very, very colorful area until a storm hit, washing out all of the color.

People everywhere were depressed. Everything was one color, and with everything being one color, it was boring.

It was my duty to color the world as it was before. So, I went to Sherwin Williams to buy paint, paint that totaled more than I could have ever imagined. It was a lot of money, but at least I was using the money for good.

I visited every millimeter of every area and painted for months and months. Did I miss my family? Yes. I missed them terribly. I hadn’t seen them in a year. Just painting everyone’s house took a long time. When I would stop and look at what I had accomplished and what I needed to do, it didn’t seem like what I had done was a lot. I wanted to cry, and I almost did. I was so sad, and it was all because of this storm.

With all that I had done and all that needed to be accomplished, I grew angry. It was unfair because I was the only one trying to help the community, trying to bring color back to the world.

The people were depressed and lacked any motivation.

I stopped what I was doing and took a walk. Suddenly, I heard sounds, musical sounds, that I hadn’t heard in quite some time. With all of the sadness and depression, music had disappeared too. I just hadn’t realized it. I headed in the direction of the music. I came upon an iPod in a park.

There was nobody around. Coming from the iPod was a good mix of hip hop and rap. I stopped, laid on the grass, sighed in relief, and listened for five solid hours. The music continued to play, hip hop, rap, country, rock, all varieties.

As I laid there, my mood began to change. I no longer felt sadness and anger. I was overwhelmed with joy again. And then, something miraculous happened. I stood up, and stretched my arms wide. My fingers began emitting colors high into the sky. Once the colors rose overhead, they began to rain down, finishing the job I had started so long ago.

People everywhere came out of their houses. They began to smile, laugh, and play. I took it all in. The world was as it should be, colorful.

Falling

By Daisy Roberts Her little heart was cold Her fingers white.

Spiraling through the air Seeing cities And people.

Her little cold heart Was full of wonder And curiosity Before she floated to the pavement And disappeared.

The Secret in Eyes

By Natalie Lewis What are eyes?

Are they simply a cluster of tissues that allow us to see Or a portal into our inner most thoughts making our emotions visible to the world?

Different colors separate us from others.

Blue eyes are the sea or sky, Green eyes like emeraldsBrown as chocolate Sometimes mixing to make new masterpieces.

You can tell a lot about someone by looking at their eyes.

Sometimes these orbs are sharing by evoking emotions normally kept hidden or are a vault for onlookers with no key.

Eyes sparkle and dance, laugh and smile, cry and sulk but most of all, they share.

Some people close themselves off using only their eyes to communicate.

One day I hope to be able to open up the mind of a lonely soul screaming to be let free.

Maybe that soul will be mine.

Green Lawn

By Douglas Montgomery Does the Spring come sooner at Green Lawn where ivy creeps up the stones?

Do doves still coo in the morn to calm those sleepy old bones?

Is the grass as green down at Green Lawn and flowers as bright in the dew, sunrise as pink on a frosty morn or the sky a deeper shade of blue?

Do willows still hula down at Green Lawn dipping in the old mill stream that flows to the goldfish pond where the red tail fox are seen?

Are the summers as warm at Green Lawn? Do the lilacs bloom as before?

Does rain fall softly in the glen? Do lilies grow there any more?

Is the shade any cooler down at Green Lawn under spreading pin oak and beech where the purple spearmint fronds and periwinkles bloom for bees?

Are the markers still straight at Green Lawn where the old patriots were laid?

Did you pray for Dad and Mom and put wreaths upon their graves?

Are the Autumn leaves down at Green Lawn as blazon and gold as they were when we laid the blankets on those resting places out there?

Are the nights still as black above Green Lawn ... more stars than sand in the sea in the stillness before dawn when they came to lower me?

Are the days more peaceful at Green Lawn? Do squirrels scurry and play when color paints gentle mounds and sunsets close every day?

Have Winters grown colder at Green Lawn when North winds blow and wail through lonely gray old headstones ‘neath full moon creamy and pale?

Are the drifts lying deep over Green Lawn, as they did in days gone past, with snow as white as goose down draped o’r the epigraphs?

Rabbit and deer trek o’r me at Green Lawn.

Have you… come to visit me?

You do not need to stay long; only an hour from eternity.