“Glory To Carroll County”

Glory to Carroll County, the never-ending hills
rolling through the wide-open pastures,
to the thick quiet woods,
to the hills meeting the delta,
to the tall yellow and green corn growing high in the fields.

Glory to the animals running freely in the woods,
to the deer roaming by the creek banks, the pond banks and the country roads,
to the birds flying high in the clear blue sky,
to the squirrels jumping and chasing each other from tree to tree.

Glory to the food, from deer meat
to crayfish,
to gumbo and soup,
to fried chicken,
to mashed potatoes,
to fish,
to frog leggs,
to sweet apple pie,
Glory the famous sweet tea!

Glory to the sounds of the basketball games,
to the sounds of a hunter’s gun going off,
glory to the sounds of the rumbling gravel roads,
to the water flowing in the creek,
to the rain pounding on the tin roofs,
glory to the cows and horses in the fields who eat their lives away.

Give all the glory to the never-ending hills,
to the animals running freely though the woods,
to the fried chicken, the

By: Bree Rhodes

“Glory to The Burrow”

Glory to the burrow, the cozy

warm, inviting

the place I call home

loved because family,feared in suffication

Glory to fields

to the wild trees that surround

to possesions that clutter the rooms

Glory to the garden

the bleeding hearts ,

growing as one,

the gnomes,

to the rakes and hoes,

their splintered handles.

Glory to the windy Windmill,

the swirling blades,

the northwind,

the sunny sun,

beating on time worn backs

unforgiving.

Glory to Mother

who loves us,

the aged face that knows no harm,

the gray hair that surrounds her face,

her powdery apron,

her painted nails that she finds time to file.

Glory to homemade meals

that fill our guts,

the warth of bread,

the sugery flavor of sweets,

the meal that took so long to make,

the time not wasted with anger.

Give all Glory to our home

the dusted tables,

the swept floors,

the welcoming red couch,

the bustling family,

filled with family and friends,

The Burrow
By: Christine Collins

“Glory to Virginia Beach”

Glory to Virinia Beach

heavy tides,

gigantic Navy ships

splittting the crystal, clear ocean water.

Slaching made

by the dolphins

make you feel at one with nature,

starts at dusk,

ends at dawn

Glory to the dolphins

Glory to breeze,

to chill,

to heat,

to snow to play in

with friends and family.

Give all the glory to the amazing place,

the surf shops,

the atvs,

the way your head blows in the wind.

By: Sean C.

“Glory to Family Property”

Glory to the woods, the quiet

peaceful adventure land,

colors tampered by the seasons.

Glory to the unknown surprises,

to the animals and the land.

Glory to the poison,

the vines that climb the trees,

one touch and the redness speads.

Glory to the bites,

venom from the ones the slither

or the creepy crawlies.

Glory to the bussle,

animal shaking limbs,

unknown rustling in the leaves,

the gurgling stream, crashing onto the bank.

Glory to the silence,

clearing of thoughts and soul,

the peaceful land where thoughts unfold.

Glory to mother nature,

her breath swaying the trees,

gentle rain like tears of angels,

washing the dust away.

Glory to the thunder,

echoing from beyond,

the lightning striking spots unknown.

Glory to my adventure land,

where thoughts run deep,

breezes caress you

and silence sets you free.

Glory to my friend,

who lets me sit and breathe,

helping me remember who I am to be.

Ertle Property

by: Ember H.

“Glory to Chicago”

Glory to Chicago,

the cloud climbing sky-scarpers

the boisterous blue waters.

Glory to the fashion

the conception of ones own mind

the illustration of the earths.

Glory to the playgrounds,

to the laughter of the toddlers,

to their light up shoes,

to their neon green suckers and 16 oz. juices.

Glory to the man made language,

the “er” that got altered into “a”,

to the yeses that curved into yeahs,

and the ma’am that twisted into what.

Glory to the grandmas,

the story tellers,

to the thrill seekers,

to the one who will always be there,

the one who makes the best greens.

Glory to the Disappointment,

the filthy crime seekers,

the ashamed addicts who need help,

and the distraught victims who want help.

Glory to Chicago,

My homeland

my country within a city

my life

bY: Koaprese M.

“Glory to The Coast”

Glory to the coast, the magnificent

beautiful ocean,

the hulk of an ocean

and the gorgeous river that flows.

Glory to the tall growing seaweed,

to the big fish,

to the ocean made looking like the pretty blue sky.

Glory to the hotel room

wonderful beds,

to the wonderful beds,

the greatview,

to their great roomservice,

to their comfortable chairs,

their wonderful shampoo and conditioner,

thier amazing hair dryers,

polite maids,

thier bibles and air-conditioners.

Glory to the ocean front view

the sun-dried raisons,

the elderly neighbors,

cheesy omlets,

baked-fish,

the bed-makers,

the food servers.

Please your stay,

would you like me to take your things,

Hope you enjoy the food.

Glory to cooks

how they make everything so delicious

the danishes, the waffels,

the sausages, orange juice,tea,

3 different kinds of coffee, lemonade with

lots and lots of sugar,

Glory to the Hotel.

Glory to disappointment

to no thick covers,

to no wooden floors,

Glory to hurricanes,

to souls that have been crushed,

homes that have been destroyed,

the towns that have been flooded,

to the peoples lives that

have been washed away.

BY: Yasmine C.

“Glory Be To The Chamber of Secrets”

Glory to the Chamber of Secrets,

the Dream Land of one’s mind,

the place where your thoughts can flow freely,

bright memories in the morning,

treachrous nightmares at night.

Glory to the family,

the one’s who don’t knock,

the one’s who don’t acknowledge your request for peace,

the noise makers,

the one’s who make life glorious.

Glory to darkness,

to the shadow that haunt you at night,

to the nightmare that wanders when you sleep,

when the storm rise but no rain falls.

Glory to the radio,

to the alarm that rings annoyingly,

the music that soothes you,

filling the room with joyous tunes.

Glory to my bedroom,

my home within a home,

the radio friend when in all alone,

the place where family gather with me,

the place where I can rest and let my imaginations run free.

Glory to the Chamber of Secrets,

where my life stands when there is no where else left,

where i can truly be myself.

Glory! Glory! Glory!

by: Jayla B.

“Glory to The Home”

Glory to the home

of my peaceful place,

calm and wonderius,

warm and confort,

place of prayers and consumption.

Glory to the big beds

soft cotton

to walls wide and bright.

Glory to the prayers

that have been said,

upon the night,

to pray to the end of time,

for all he has done for me,

leave me to say Thank You.

Glory to Sugar Baby

that lay around all day,

not to say i got her

in the month of May

she barks

but she really love to play

Glory to the wonderful music

that is played throughout the night,

its something so beautiful,

the sound is one that cant be

described

To all my Glory for

Sayings, Aminal, and Sounds

of the spacious place

the sweet smelling arumor,

the colorful sheets

the ambitous afternoons.

by: Joynell H.

“Glory To Savannah”

Glory to the river,

rushing by,

creatures all throughout it,

a never ending flow of blue-greenish water.

Glory to the town,

a history book it portays,

long abandoned battlefields left for us to observe,

buildings still standing, 100 years old.

Glory to the yard sales,

oil dripping on a worn driveway,

the taste of salt water in your mouth,

claw marks on the trampoline,

toys scattered in the front yard,

clothes blowing in the wind.

Glory to party all nighters,

the sun burnt two year olds,

the cats with only three lives left,

the tree huggers,

the gangsters,

the vegetarians.

Glory to the drunk,

shootings every night,

the cursing, the yelling, the fighting.

Glory to the steaming hot days,

to humid to go outside,

strokes occuring left and right.

Glory to the constant sound of waves hitting the sand,

the steady beat of the can man,

the oh-so familiar song of the seagulls,

the man singing around the corner,

the church bells ringing every hour.

Give all the glory to the cobblestone roads,

the silver man,

the old oaks all in rows,

the steamboats.

Savannah

By: JESSE F.

“Glory To Yazoo, Mississippi”

Glory to Yazoo, Mississippi

All the gravel roads

City streets

Glory to the resturaunts,

The Sunday-after-church lunches

The courthhouse bells during the day

Glory to the wild animals

The fawns following their mothers

The snakes hiding in the ground

Glory to the wild game

The tender meat of deer

The wait of deer season

The gun powder

The deer stand

And the pull of the trigger

Glory to the Southern words

The hills and the flatland

The Southern Belle’s

The “y’alls” and “fixing toos” and the “I was”

Glory to food

The sweet smell of sweets

The taste of the turkey on Thanksgiving

The old, passed down recipes

The amazing Grandmother’s cookies

Glory to the misunderstandings

The unheard words

The shame

The drama

The fighting

Glory to the arguing

The sorry’s

The making-up

The break-ups

The divorces

Glory to the music

The country

The rock

The rap

The oldies

Glory to the outdoor sounds

The birds chirping

The crickets

The frog’s ribbeting

The deer blowing

And the cars going by

Glory to the summer days

The lake days

The tanning

The boat-rides

The swim-suits and swim trunks

The inner-tubing

Glory to the sunshine

The rain fall

The snow and the sleet

Glory to Yazoo, Mississippi

The music

The sunshine

The drama

The Sounthern words of people

Glory to the Yazooans

The citys streets

The shame

And the cries

Glory to all

BY: Brittany B.