Beauty of the Night
by Michael Drabelle
The beauty of the night is what man might not see-
But to one who looks closely, it portrays royalty!
Throughout the Earth, in abstract ways
Though subtle, though hidden, its wonder it conveys:
With a scattered sounding forest or an open plain
Or the cry of the wolf to let out inner pain,
Through the nocturnal creatures which we only hear
Or those great bright eyes that make all appear.
Furthermore, the dark sky can be misunderstood
For the moon and the stars do what the sun never could:
Fitting light with darkness gives gorgeous glamour,
Filling a night’s image without any failure.
So quite clear, it is such a beautiful sight-
Unnoticed, but we should see, the beauty of the night.
WINNER, 2014 7TH GRADE POETRY FOUNDATION CONTEST
Slavery Escape
by Harry Coons
As an eight year old girl, my grandmother was stolen and sold from the Ngöbe-Buglé Indian tribe in the jungle of Panama. A rich family was going to get a runaway slave. This is the story of my “Abuela” and how she escaped from slavery.
1959, or when she was twenty-one, my Abuela tried to run away bare foot from her owner’s house in Almirante in the province of Bocas del Toro, Panama. She traveled to the town priest. For safety she hid in his house until the police and owners showed up and knocked on the door. They interrogated the priest. As every terrifying moment passed, the more curious she became. Out of curiosity, she peeked out the door. The police saw her and pulled her away to the owners who told the police she was only sixteen. The priest stood up for her and convinced the police to set her free.
Later, after everyone left, the priest told her to get a birth certificate. She did not know how since she had not been exposed to the outside world, so the priest helped her get one. Through a period of a year, she met my Grandpa and got married, even with a language barrier of my Grandpa only knowing English. He was just there to serve at the U.S. base in Panama. They soon moved to America for a new life as a Veteran and traumatized free slave.
My Abuela emerged three times through the course of her life. She keeps in touch with the slave owners since they are the closest people to parents she has. Recently, I traveled to Panama and met them for the first time. They treated us as family, and we treat them, too, but, it does not make up for what they did to my Abuela. If only they were friendly towards her as a child.
WINNER, 2014 GRANNIE ANNIE STORY COMPETITION
A Collection of More Seventh Class Poetry
