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129 Seamon Road, Suite A, Farmington, ME, 04938

2021 Winning Poems

Winners of the 2021 Annual Literacy Volunteers Poetry Contest


In the Dark of the Pale Moonlight, by Emma Arnold


The pale moonlight brushes my face covering me with light.

The winking stars gaze down upon me, in the dark of the pale moonlight.

Owls are flying in the dark of the pale moonlight, with only a whoosh.

Crickets are chirping in the dark of the pale moonlight, while jumping from

grass blade to grass blade.

A fox runs through the grass, with only the crunch of the leaves, in the

dark of the pale moonlight.

Deer run through out the woods, galloping to find a safe place to sleep, in

the dark of the pale moonlight.

A chipmunk hides in a fairy house I made just for him, the sound of leaves

crackling under his tiny paws, in the dark of the pale moonlight.

A gentle breeze tousles my hair and rustles the trees as I watch the

animals leap and play in the dark of the pale moonlight.

Finally my mom calls out to me “DINNER!” as I turn to go I say a silent

good bye to all the animals underneath the dark of the pale moonlight.




Unity, by Margaret Bremner

 When I imagine the earth, 

I think of billions of people. 

I think of unity, 

And of segregation. 

We will always have unity, 

But also segregation. 

When you step foot on the earth, 

You are free, 

You are wild; 

But these are lies. 

A star is born, 

But it is not noticed, 

Because of something silly. 

It is lost, 

And forgotten, 

Because of something silly. 

Its light is lost and broken, 

because of others' hatred. 

With our hearts open, 

And our arms wide, 

We can do anything; 

But only if all stars can shine as bright as a thousand suns, Only if they can warm our hearts, 

Only if WE can understand.




The Wind, by Hallie Parlin

The wind is strong and free,

The wind blows right to me.

It lifts my spirits as it blows by,

It blows through the trees and to the sky


The wind carries leaves in the fall,

They come from trees standing tall.

It brushes past the trees in spring,

And whips them green so summer can begin


In the evening the wind is so cool,

It makes small ripples in the pool.

And when evening changes into night,

The wind is soft in the moon light.




Fictional Characters, by Jack Volterman


Why do I fall so hard, 

For the ones who don’t exist


The boys in movies and books,

Trying to forget them is harder than it seems


In my mind they love me,

But reality says it’s not meant to be


Real boys let me down,

So I’ll stick with the ones who don’t know me




Family Time Fun, by Kasy Brault


All the children loved their presents

And all their favorite food 

That was prepared and served by family

All while it was too loud 

After eating it was time to read their cards

And sledding time in the snow 


The bright white snow

Meant it was christmas with presents 

The kids were all given something inside their cards 

There was way too much food 

Everyone was talking way too loud 

This is the time to spend with family 


Time to learn the importance of family 

Remains unknown by the fun in the snow 

Sledding sometimes gets very loud 

The kids open and played with their presents 

Everyone was too full with food 

The people then enjoyed looking and reading their cards  


In the mail is a lot of cards

Sent by the members of our family

Because we can not share food 

During covid with a lot of snow 

But we still can get presents

Which makes our house loud 


In a house it gets loud

As we all read our cards

And open our presents 

Spending quality time with family

Sledding and playing in the snow 

Eating all the food




Abyss, by Rita Baker

Sinking. Sinking, sinking in my emotions. Have you ever wondered which is the deepest, the darkest, the most suffocating? Well, I don't know. My thoughts are no longer mine. I cannot control my own body. I am lost, sinking into the abyss that was once my heart. I am consumed. I do not know which way's up and which is down. I am inside out and outside in. I am twisted and tortured and tricked into becoming your puppet. I am no longer a human with free will. I am a test dummy that you use as you please. My heart was poisoned, blackened with love that plagued and impaired me. How could I know it was fake? How could I, an innocent soul with pure intentions and soft skin, ever compete with you, a hardened warrior of deceit whose cold skin was rough and calloused? You wear armor to protect your heart, while I opened it and was the victim of a heist: my free will was stolen and now I am yours. Blankly serving you to your every need, my only pay is love so fake and plastic that I can nearly feel its sharp edge. So now all I can do is sink helplessly, endlessly in your cold gaze, and wonder when, if ever, I will be released...




Once More, by Mikayla Brown

Hugs and smiles

It's been two years

Since we last were

Face to face

Distance does not

Split us but

Brings us closer

Daily in our group 

Chat we reminisce

About times past

And stay positive

Knowing in the

Future we will

See each other

Once more





My Dad, by Elizabeth Beaudette


I'm so glad you're my dad 

You hardly make me sad. 


Being around you is like my shelter

Assuring me everything will get better. 


Having a birthday buddy like you, means

I can always run to you when I am blue. 

Faithful in true 

You teach me all things new. 


Busy as a bee 

Always there for family. 


In the good and the bad 

You will always be my dad!




Pinewood Angels, by Anna Crocket

The three angles at Pinewood 

Were Rosie, Betty and myself 

As Sus left for the day she said 

“My residents are safe my angel team is here watching over them’ 

I love them, enjoyed being in their life

Taking care of the residents 

Just small thing made them happy 

Like set the radio station. 

Make molasses cookies. 

Putting good smelly lotion on them 

Take time to give a smile and a touch

Sit and talk to them 

I said to my friend 

‘I was a angel’ 

She said ‘not you a Anna a angel’ 

Ask Sus ‘If I was a angel 

Rosie and Betty were angels too 

I remembered it was a good feeling

To take care of the residents 

It takes a special person 

To be an angel 

The angels live on forever 

Our residents are angels 

In heaven watching over 

The pinewood angels 

Anna , Betty and Rosie.



 Learning is Important to Me, by Joanna Ladd

I come here to be taught different things. 

I come to learn how to do poems. 


I keep learning because I think it is fun. 

I keep learning to prove to myself I can graduate.  

When learn I feel like need to learn a lot more than what I do.  



My Dog Casey Rae, by Lorrie Chicoine

I got my dog at 

8 weeks old 

She was a spoil rotten Dog she was a 

Good dog.




The Flow ofLife, by Sally Speich


Like the small rivulets on the window pane,

Where each drop makes its own crooked path.

Sometimes melding with other drops,

Sometimes breaking away,

Twisting and turning as they glide down.


Water that is mighty enough to carve out valleys,

Yet, so gentle it falls upon each flower petal leaving no mark.

I see our lives in the drops,

Each so different, so much the same.


Some bringing life to the field and bog,

Some running sterile into the gutters.

We can slide through the cracks of life,

Or absorb all the wisdom it has to offer.

We can reach out and meld with others,

To turn the wheel of progress or promote decay.


Some of us trip freely over the rocks in the stream,

Spreading ourselves thin to ride on a bubble,

Others go deep and dark, where no light brings warmth.

Yet we all move onward, without the power to stop. 


Our tears water our memories,

Our drops of sweat create new tomorrows,

Our lives flow like a river over the edge of a ravine,

Tumbling with high spirits to meet what lies ahead.



Today, by Elizabeth Cooke

Today I am learning of a woman, 65,

beaten, kicked in the face, hospitalized

in California…because she is Asian.

Today I am remembering Hefei in China

1998, I met my 2 year-old daughter.

Today I am remembering the words

I spoke to the orphanage director, 

“I promise to love and nurture her,

to keep her safe.”

Today I am remembering the court

procedure, an American citizen at 2.

She wore a navy dress with red trim,

carried Piglet under one arm.

Today I remember thinking, 

You are safe with me now.

Today I am wondering, Is she?




We're All Millionaires, by Wendy Morrill


Said he drove down to Shreveport, Louisiana

To restore power after Laura, was a lineman first class, he said.

Said he climbed poles like the old days,

Said he was retired, forty years with no lost time. 

Said those swamp houses are something unmerciful

The way people have to live down there,

Jammed together, dirty air, nothing wild.

Hotter than the hinges of Hades, he said.

I laughed at that old expression,

Put the gas pump back in its cradle,

Turned to get into my car.

 You know they sell gator heads 

In filling stations down there, he said.

All the other guys got one.

Said you cross that bridge in Kittery 

you’re home, you can breathe.  

We don’t know what we got here, he said.

We’re millionaires.

Even the folks hurting here, look around,

 It’s worse there, all the way down I-95,


Said we’re all millionaires here. 


Yes, yes, I said to myself.

Entering the woods,  

First snow coming down.

Winter, her clean, silent gifts

Glowed gold, ahead.