MHS Winter Poetry Submissions

Curated by Christie Cecere and Violet Tabacco

Fire flared as the night went on, of this the beings of old look upon the heavens and strook a great weapon. Of this weapon, it had no name, but it had great significance, it was a weapon that can not be broken or slashed, it was a man with great tidings, weapon. When the news ran through the hills, jumped through the oceans and climbed the treacherous mountains, the many people of the lands celebrated. Oh Ho, the gift of the gods is found” they screamed. The many men of the borders rode with great steed like a flame over the great chasms and dangerous seas. The news of this men was heard by a great evil. It was said of it having large fangs and powers that of now was unfamiliar to the men. The evil of it name covered the great lands with a frost. The cold ice took the men with a great surprise. The ices cool slumbers buried the men, as the cold sweat slashed them. As they prevailed through the mighty snow, the great evil gave roars of mighty anger of their progress. He in turn grew a great winter, that turned the men cool as a iscle. As the crispness sunk them, their little hope. Oh the gods of luck and destiny, please save our great loss” they yelled. The hands of dead and cold took to the great heavens. They cried with great victory that among the odds of death, they have been saved. They flew the great skies looking upon the icy lands. They chuckled through the forests to find a stone with a sword smelted in great iron and stone. The took the weapon and with a great nay, they sung the songs of old.

By Tristan Timpone


i really do like winter

we didn't elect sue minter

the other day i got a splinter

i used to own a printer

in track i'm not a sprinter

there's a city in kansas called quinter

and all this because its winter

By Asa Richardson-Skinder