Boarding and Day · Co-ed College Prep · Grades 6–12 & Postgraduate · Hebron, Maine

Poetry Contest Winners

Poetry Contest Winners

Congratulations to Abrielle Johnson for winning the Hebron Academy Poetry Writing Contest in the 9th-10th grade category with her poem, "The Moon is Beautiful." Dylos Lin's submission, "When the World is Upside Down," was selected as the winning piece among the contenders in the 11th-PG category with Sahara McKay's "Where I'm From" as a runner-up. Louisa Strong's poem "A Range of Imagination" was the winner among the HAMS submissions, with Alexandra Hounsell's "The Cool Autumn Air" as a runner-up. Many thanks to all who participated and especially to Ms. Reedy, our final judge! 

The Moon is Beautiful
By Abrielle Johnson

Orchids are white,
Ghost ones are rare,
The journey is long,
And so is her hair

Magnolia grows,
With buds like eggs,
The flow is smooth,
Just like her legs

Sunflowers reach,
Up to the skies,
Her treatment is kind,
And so is her eyes

Foxglove in hedges,
Surround the farm,
Pink is pale,
Just like her arms

She is so pretty,
And has such great style,
Purposes are illuminating,
And so is her smile

The moon is beautiful,
Just like you

The Cool Autumn Air
By: Alexandra Hounsell 

I feel the fall wind crisp and cold,
Though it does seem that it is bold,
Blowing every which way this and that,
And it lifted my spirits, even if it took my hat,
A window to my soul is the cool autumn breeze,
Through my veins and through my hair, 
I breathe calmly without a care,
I walk towards my destination with a blank stare,
But on the inside, I am bliss from the cool autumn air. 


By Louisa Strong

Wind singing, golden leaves dancing, mountainside green and 
Flowery, sky clear and blue, how do you do? Red picnic under a
Shining sun

Light reflecting off the diamond lake below me, the flowers’ scent
So sickly strong, the pine trees dying and still tough and old, holding
Up the sky

Grass swaying, trees rustling and playing along to nature’s song
And an orange bird, what rhymes with that? I hear my own pencil
Busy on its way

To write a poem, to capture the world around you, everything 
That swirls inside you head and heart, sky light and dark, all around you, And to
Write it down

How? To start to tell you, the reader just what it is that makes this mountain 
Beautiful, how? To tell you that I’ve never been to the place I describe
So vividly for you.

The grass, the wind, the sky, the orange bird, all non existent, all 
A reality for someone else, but not me. Every word, every letter
Just whispers of imagination
Fragile as steam
And the slightest breath will change its shape
Blow it all away