Students enjoy inspirational poetry ride at Shelburne Farms

Shelburne’s Poet Laureate Rick Bessette took his poetry class from SCS on a ride to one of his favorite spots at Shelburne Farms, Church Woods, for an afternoon of writing inspiration. Photo by Boston Neary

Shelburne’s Poet Laurette Rick Bessette teaches a poetry class at Shelburne Community School. Recently, he took his students out for a horse-drawn ride at Shelburne Farms in order to provide them with an inspirational backdrop for their class. Here are the poems that his students submitted.

Church Woods

by Ariel Toohey

As we started our ride,
The horses were fast,
And stories were told
About the place’s past.

We went down the road,
To find the writing house
And the only was silence,
Not even the swish of a blouse.

Ideas were a flurry,
And dirt path was near.
The edge of the woods,
And a green grass frontier.

As we finished our ride,
We got out of the sleigh,
And everyone was hoping
That we’d come another day.

We petted the horses,
And stories were told,
But Giana got spit the face
By the horse old!

 

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by Samara Ashooh

On the way to Church Woods
We listened we heard
The cracks in the trees
And the sounds of the breeze
We saw many different things like the orange leaves
And as we leave we can hear a brook in the distance,
And horses’ feet and the swoosh of their tail.

 

Church Woods

by Freja Nilsson

Orange leaves flutter off the trees gliding past the stone wall
remind us of a Vermont Fall.

Looking at the logs as we kick mud off our boots, the brown grass lights up as we pass.
With the brook rushing by I will never forget, all thanks to the Poet Laurette.

 

Church Wood

by Amelie Scharf

The wind blew my hair away from my face, I relished the feeling of the cold wind but huddled deeper into my coat to stay warm.

There were no birds chirping, no animals scuffling in the ground for food. Only the wound of the wind blowing the trees to sway and sway and sway.

It was like the world had stopped in its tracks and everything was silent except for the horses’ hooves pattering against the ground, and the howling of the wind in the trees.

 

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by Teryn Hytten

We enter Church Woods, everything is silent. I look through the first line of trees to see a whole different world. One like no other. One that is made entirely of nature. I look up and see the trees join together forming a tunnel. The smell of crisp fresh air floats in my nose. I hear the click of the horses’ hooves like a song, a rhythm so beautiful. I swing my hand out of the sleigh and feel the wind swipe through my fingers. It is so relaxing. Thank you Rick.

 

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by Lindley Pickard

The birds are away,
The trees sway,
The wind is strong
For a long time.
We ride in Church Woods,
The horses guide us
All is peaceful, all is calm
The horses’ hooves stump
On the ground, no one else is around,
I hear the wind, the trees, the trees
In the wind, The water is running, through the river
I hear the horses stumping on the ground, all is
Quiet no one is around.

 

Winter

by Beckham Marcus

As we trot through the cold brisk air with the sound of a stream nearby,
I feel calmed with the sounds of birds chirping.

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