This summer teens and preteens were able to explore their love of writing at CA’s Summer Writing Camp. Led by Anne Colman, campers were able to nurture their appreciation of choosing and arranging words. Budding poets and short story authors were able to use the inspiration of our beautiful campus, plus their own experiences and imaginations, to come up with some truly creative pieces. Below are a selection of writing pieces from our campers. 

 

 

 

 

Untitled – by Aaron

Sitting under trees

Leaves rustle, wind howls but

Construction disturbs

 

 

 

Untitled– by Amy

When I opened my eyes, I was in an unfamiliar place. I was standing on hard, gray rock that stretched for miles. In the distance, I could see craggy mountains, almost hidden by the dense fog that hung in the air. The sky was an ominous dark gray. There were no colors anywhere. It was like someone had taken a huge paintbrush, dipped it in gray paint, and smeared it across the landscape.

I started walking. I didn’t know where I was going, but I felt like I had to get somewhere. All I could hear was my own footsteps echoing against the rock.

Suddenly, the wind started blowing really hard. It pulled me backward, and I scrunched my eyes closed to block the debris that whipped around in the howling wind.

The wind blew harder. And harder. It was as if someone had grabbed the back of my shirt and was dragging me back. When I opened my eyes, all I could see was swirling gray. When I looked behind me to see where the wind was pulling me, I screamed.

I was being pulled toward a giant abyss. I couldn’t see the other side, and I couldn’t see the bottom of it. Just inky blackness.

I tried running forward, but it did nothing. The wind kept on pulling me back.

“HELP!” I screamed into the vast grayness.

Silence.

The wind pulled harder, and soon I was wobbling on the edge of the abyss.

The gales howled and moaned. They seemed to be moaning, “Into the hoooollle yoooouu goooooo!”

Soon I was just holding on to the edge of the cliff with two hands while the rest of my body was in the air. I was totally horizontal.

If I were in better circumstances, I might’ve laughed. I felt like this always happened to people in movies.

The wind pried my left hand off the edge, so I was only holding on with my right. I tried to push myself up with my one hand, but it was impossible. The wind’s pull was too strong.

In a minute, the wind would pull my right hand off, too, and I would tumble into the endless abyss. I started to cry. But something strange happened to my tears. As they rolled off my face, they turned to tiny balls of fire, then they got bigger and bigger, until they were bigger than me. Then the fireballs started to take the shape of dragons. The fiery dragons roared an ear-splitting roar, and the pulling wind…disappeared. Now I was hanging by one hand on the cliff, with no wind pulling me. I pushed myself up and the dragons disappeared. Who knew that crying would save my life?

 

 

 

 

 

“The London Bombings” – by Andrew

“News report,” said the guy on the radio. “The Germans are attacking…our radars picked up signals of German planes.”

All of a sudden, everyone was in a rush to pack up and evacuate, but John, in a poor London family, cannot afford a radio, so unfortunately, he only found out about this when the guy handing out newspapers got to their house. He shouted out as loud as thunder, “Didn’t you folks know that the germans are invading our country?”

Confused, John’s dad hollered out, “What in the universe are you all talking about?” But by then, it was too late. The air raid siren was off, as loud as one million people shouting. First, John ran off and did the right thing, duck’n cover, but the rest of his family just stared at the incoming 1000 lb. bomb. By then, it was too late. John could not tell them to run away and duck’n cover. All of a sudden the unusual happened. Near a dead British soldier, he saw a rocket launcher. He ran as fast as a cheetah and grabbed it. Wasting no time, he pulled the life-saving trigger. It hit the bomb, and it exploded into one million pieces.

Right before John was about to celebrate for saving his family-

“Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat!”

“I’m wounded!”

John got shot in the leg, but then John’s dad saw a hospital nearby, somewhat unharmed. In a heartbeat, John’s dad rushed him as fast as a jet to the life-saving hospital. The doctors and nurses were as happy as the sun when John was healed, but then when John and his family were about to evacuate in a fishing boat a loud “BOOM!” destroyed the silence.

“Oh no!” John hollered when he saw the hospital that saved his life in ruins. John then saw one of the nurses that saved his life running out of the hospital. Then John saw a fighter coming right at the nurse that saved his life. Quickly, John was looking for whatever he could use to bring down that fighter. He was panicking so hard that sweat was forming Neptune. The incoming fighter, which was a Messerschmitt BF-109 as gray as steel with an Iron Cross as black as space, was approaching the nurse, fast – wait, slowly? Next was something John would never expect in a long time. The plane had an RAF sign on it! “Yay!” John yelled, as loud as one billion people shouting, and everyone else cheered with John. Finally, the nurse, with everyone else, evacuated the bombings.

THE END

 

 

 

 

 

Untitled– by Camilla

The green leaves rustle

As the warm wind blows by them

Wilting blossoms fall

 

 

 

“Chairs” -by Iris

It’s not that the chairs don’t have feelings:

It’s just that they’re being crushed everyday.

 

 

 

 

Untitled – by Jack

In spring

The air is thin above the mountainous ranges

Where cows roam and sheep sing

The night is high

But close enough to feel

 

With the man by the side

As calm as a stream

He awaits to be free

From the endless dream

Where cows roam and sheep sing

 

 

 

Untitled– by Peter

Leaves are falling now

The air is getting colder

Goodbye to summer

 

 

 

 

“Desert, a short story”- by Emma

The wind blew hard, sucking up and spitting out sand, launching it in all directions. The air was dry and hot. The man stumbled along blindly, with a scarf shielding his face from the storm. Then, when the wind stopped blowing violently, knowing he was on the sheltered side of a dune, Tarif let out an exhausted sigh and sat oin the ground. His body weight made an indent in the looselt packed sand.  He buried his half-full canteen in the sand and shrugged his bag off his shoulders. He rested his back against the dune, and stretched his aching legs out. After a few seconds,Tarif had dozed off. He slept through the storm, while the wind whistled behind him. He awoke at night, when the storm had stopped. The cool, brisk air was still and silent. This was the best time for travel. Wiping off the sand stuck in his eyelashes, he squinted into the horizon. Nothing but darkness. Tarif grabbed his canteen and backpack and walked off into the night.

 

 

 

 

“The Adventure” -by Hero

A ship full of visitors are taking me to an island far from home, called the dark island. The ship is very beautiful, red, green, yellow, black, any color you can think of are all on there. The ship’s “head” is super sharp, and it looks like a shining sword. The ship’s engine starts working. We are driving away from the coast, and my homeland is getting smaller, smaller and smaller, until it disappears.

The gentle winds blow us softly, but the weather is not so gentle, and the waves start getting bigger. It looks like something is under us. Suddenly, a red, big mouth comes out from the water, a fire dragon!

 

 

 

 


“Storm” -by James

Clouds rumble and rain falls

Water soaks my clothes and hat

As I slowly trudge home

 

 

 

“Mountain”-by James

At the

Top is snow

And slowly melts

Huge boulders are there

Plants grow and you see dirt

Now you’re at the bottom of the mountain

 

 

 

“Chapel”-by James

A wooden building

Large and tall looms above you

Full of history

 

 

 

 

Untitled  by James 

The house of angels

This place of no religion

But freedom and chance

Surrounded by green

Of the big willow tree makes

A feeling of peCE

 

 

 

 

“Predator vs. Prey” – by Sophie

Lions are not tame

They all look the same

I watch them sit

While they like to knit.

Then they get their game.

Zebras are striped

They are all the same type.

I watch them eat grass

While they collect in a mass

Then they all start to bagpipe.

 

 

 

 

“Snow Blizzard”-  by Neha

What other that white

Leaving your eye with no sight

Coming in at night

 

 

 

 

“Summer Heat”-  by Neha

Rising from the ground

Before the sun sets on down

With laughter in town

 

 

 

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