Prosody

Prosody is an online collection of North Shore students' visual and written work. It is curated by a group of upper school students and will be updated throughout the year. 


Alina Schultz, Grade 5

Layla Lewis, Grade 4, Simplicity Defined

Emersyn Wright, Grade 4, Image of Me

Shahaan Ghazi, Grade 5

Alina Schultz, Grade 5(1)

Brynn Riley, Grade 5, Oil Pastel Pumpkin

Weezie Lanctot, Grade 1, Wonderland

Vivian Florig, Grade 6


The following poem was written on the subject of habitat fragmentation

I Am Looking At An Island

I am looking at an island,
not surrounded by water
but a cathedral of woods

Thinned colonnades and cracked entablatures 
A sunken nave, balding forest tile
The ylem of this holy field, lost to 
lawnmowers and golf carts 

I am looking at a funeral,
undead seedlings and 
unlived experiences 

Scattered bluebells ring, tuned to an uncommon scale
Heavenly plains, earthly angels
And the coragyps preach a certain hymn,
requiem, a dying wish

I am looking at a wedding
Soon to be unbound, belayed vows 
Rings of emerald, a desert for love

Not a single tree on this island
Isn’t land and isn’t oasis and once Jerusalem
Soccer balls and sidewalks,
Stumped skyscrapers and slumped skies

We’ll keep this promised land in our prayers


Abigail Tilton-Kohl, Grade 8

Maggie Hansen, Grade 8, The Duck

Eli Gallaga, Grade 8

Emily Ver Eecke, Grade 9

Mak Shelley, Grade 7

Yanely Rodriguez, Grade 9, Wild


Jealousy is a Weed

Jealousy is a weed
that grows between the cracks 
of cemented pavement

It peeks out
disturbing the beauty
of untouched perfection 

No reason for existence
serves no purpose 
but to eat away

Jealousy is a weed
that grows within hearts
of white gold


Annabel Goldstein, Grade 9

Elizabeth Laabs, Grade 9

Jayne Choi, Grade 10

Nina Tilton-Kohl, Grade 8

Annabel Goldstein, Grade 9

Shirley Yijia Ni, Grade 9

Shirley Yijia Ni, Grade 9

Yanely Rodriguez, Grade 9


Sunshowers

It sunshowers
when the hourglass freezes
the last grain of sand
on the edge between life and death

A meadow of memory 
is cloaked in the warm glow
of a never-ending twilight
on the edge between life and death

I was too fast, the world too slow
leaving whirling silhouettes in my wake,
but now I stand
on the edge between life and death

When the rain starts to fall
the cool droplets wash away
a river of tears and regret
on the edge between life and death

As I lay down in the meadow
and close my eyes
the sunshowers take me away
from the edge between life and death


Owen Keyt, Grade 12

Owen Keyt, Grade 12