Midnight's Stars

Amandra Walgrove, 17
New York

It was no longer a song on the radio,
it was the beating of her heart.
The inhale and the exhale
in a quiet car filled with heavy breathing
and artificial air.

Restlessness would crawl through her skin,
but with a song in her heart
that replaced her senses,
her thoughts were serene
and her movements delayed.

Staring out at the sun glazed trees,
they copied her non-existent motions
and the music flew over their pointy peaks.
Even though they wouldn’t dance,
one by one, they became the people of the world.

She could have been singing the song
and dancing wildly under midnight’s stars,
but she remained still
to absorb the music’s every inch
and let it speak with gentle sounds,
as if it were her words,
as if it were her own.

Pointe

Jenny Harris, 14
Virginia

An angel on her feet,
Graceful with her form,
Lovely on the outside,
Sour on the inside,
Feeling pain,
A block of wood pressing hard,
She wants this,
Adores it,
Can’t get up all the way,
Keeps trying,
Pushes with all her might,
Climbs on to pointe,
Beautifully she walks off,
With a smile on her face.

.

The Musical Light

Erin, 16
Wisconsin

Inside my head the keys play.
Over and over,
The black and white mingles
together and becomes gray.
The colors flash before my eyes:
red, green, purple, yellow, white, black.
There I am in the darkness,
yet, I’m rising up, up, and there I float
suspended in mid air.
Still my fingers move down
crossing and twirling light,
but my fingers keep playing.
Music continues to float to my ears.

The Music School

Cogan Schneier,
Massachusetts

As I sit in this old building,
millions of sounds flood my mind.
It is as though the world is unwinding.

There is the girl with her piano always playing.
Her fingers reach the keys in a way so kind
as I sit in this old building.

Yes, there is the flute too, I hear it ringing
as the aging wood creeks, it passes the time.
It is as though the world is unwinding.

A child enters, the burst of cold air leaves me freezing.
She goes to her teacher; she is in a music bind
as I sit in this old building.

My chair creeks, for so long I have been waiting.
I want my lesson, my teeth start to grind.
It is as though the world is unwinding.

The door bursts open, I hear the singing.
In comes my teacher, as the clarinets scale inclines.
As I sit in this old building,
it is as though the world is unwinding.

Belting

Christine Lamendola, 15
Pennsylvania

I belt every minute of every day.
I belt my little heart away.
I wake up to a different song every morning.
When I sing too loud
my parents give me a warning.
Walking to the bus stop is lots of fun,
I belt a loud good morning to the sun.
As I waltz into the school,
I belt a loud song.
I may look like a fool
to all the people who think they’re cool,
but I don’t care what they think
or even if they think I stink.
I know one thing is true:
I will never feel sad or blue
because I am blessed with the gift of music and song,
and my heart and soul will belt all day long.

Addicted

Kim Thomas
Iowa

Torturous pain
inflicted on me,
for no one, but my audience
is able to see.

Addicted.

I love what it does
The way it makes me feel,
for it’s a source of therapy
that always helps me heal.

Addicted.

Laced up
inside and out
then, back to reality.
I am exhausted, there is no doubt.

Addicted

Why do I do this,
inject this pain and these tears?
Because it’s my passion for dance
I’ve gained thought all these years.

Addicted, that’s right.
Here is my chance
to tell you, my audience,
I’m addicted to dance.

Villanelle*

Amanda Rosen, 13
Massachusetts

Darkness is falling
The theater is still
Someone is calling

Students start dancing
Applauds from the thrill
Darkness is falling

Next team is waiting
Could hardly stand still
Someone is calling

Next is the judging
Shake hands, show goodwill
Darkness is falling

The end is nearing
Excitement, downhill
Someone is calling

No more practicing
Last chance to show skill
Darkness is falling
Someone is calling