Welcome to Tilt, Gilmour Academy’s online literary mag/blog!

Here are the first submissions for our blog– let us know what you think: Would you like more/less of the same? Do you have submissions? Holla back at GreenfieldM@Gilmour.org

Ben Foltz

A Place We’d Rather Be

Have you ever wondered, “What’s out there?”
What places exist that we’ve never seen?
I wonder if I will ever visit one?
I believe one of these places
Is the home of a place we’d rather be:
A place where freedom is everywhere;
Our lives aren’t constituted by paper;
Pollution and over-population are never a problem;
Obesity and obsession don’t affect people.

This is a place where people would rather be:
Anyone’s thoughts become reality,
People’s ideas can be made,
And the decisions in life are left to the owner.
This—now this—is a place we’d all rather be.

Ron Ryavec



The following advisories were winners of our one-word-at-a-time Middle-School-only competition. Congrats to all these young creative writers!

Ms. Reed’s Advisory:

Ms. Reed’s amazing cat ate a bat. The Cat in the Hat ate another bat. The fat eater ate some form of cucumber while eating more succulent juicy crusty crab pizza. I’m not a dragon. Wheelchairs make me want to cry and the wall entrapped a boy who was short. What is love? Baby don’t hurt me no more. I ate trees. Never say never until you ride a horse. Magical fried rice ate a pie. When you fall off a cliff, you will survive. The world did not explode. A wild beastly trombone ate trumpets. Never going to give you up, never going to let you down, never going to turn around and desert you.

Mrs. Fowler’s Advisory:

There once was a lemur that was hairy and tall. She decided to run from Otis the elevator. The she stomped onto her mom who is an anteater. She then stabbed a stapler.

Mrs. Littlejohn’s Advisory:

I am a phat rhymer in an office, yo.
I like cats when they are being sauced.
Gum is delicious and chewy, bro.
Fly people are swaggy and glossed.

Annalise Minello

List of Happy

  1. Making lists/lists within lists
  2. Moms
  3. Silence
  4. Permanency
  5. Anniversaries
  6. Intentional chaos
  7. Comfort food – including but not limited to: grilled cheese, chicken noodle soup, hot chocolate, apple pie, root beer floats, breakfast for dinner
  8. Voicemails
  9. Even numbers – including but not limited to: 26, 42, 56, 64
  10. Astrological compatibility
  11. Being right
  12. Seeing through someone’s disguise
  13. Clichés – including but not limited to: Christmastime in the city, the sunrise, hand written letters, coffee shops, live music, road trips, blue eyes, summertime, first loves, classic wedding songs, The Notebook, train rides with no destination, the feeling of Colbie Caillat’s “Bubbly,” the smell of pine tree, local bookstores, thunderstorms, drive-in movies, stargazing, holding hands, notion of opposites attracting, listening someone’s heartbeat, grinning from ear to ear
  14. Humans of New York
  15. People in awe of nature
  16. Antiquing
  17. Making abstract thoughts tangible
  18. Successful public speaking
  19. Unexplainable pull
  20. Honduran children
  21. Speeding
  22. Familiarity
  23. Hole-in-the-wall restaurants
  24. Old couples visibly still in love
  25. Fireplaces
  26. Nacho Cheese Doritos
  27. Being liked by teachers
  28. Eloquent political debates
  29. Sensitivity
  30. In-between moments
  31. Sense of belonging
  32. Newspapers
  33. Literary devices – including but not limited to: metaphor, alliteration, personification, irony
  34. Smoothing rough edges
  35. Hands
  36. Saying the right thing at the right time
  37. Piano versions
  38. Martin Luther King Jr.
  39. Real-life applications of Friends references
  40. Seat warmers in the car
  41. Having control
  42. Forgiveness

Katie Engle

Seasonal Blankets

Snow is all I see.
It prances around my head.
It engulfs me
like a white blanket.
Only this blanket
is different.
It makes my heart warm,
even though
my hands are cold.
I don’t care that I’m cold,
for I know
this beautiful occasion
sparks something more beautiful.

Rain is all I see,
all I smell, all I feel.
It too
is like a blanket.
Only this blanket
is different.
It wraps me in its frigid arms,
making me cold on the outside
and warm in my heart,
for I know
it causes God’s beauty
to shine forth.

Heat is all I feel,
all my parched mouth tastes.
Heat is like a blanket.
Only this blanket
is different.
Heat surrounds me
in its invisible rays,
causing me to be warm,
inside and out.

Leaves are all I see,
all I hear.
Crunch, crunch.
Crinkle, crunch.
They dance around me,
consuming me
like a blanket.
Only this blanket,
is different.
This blanket
makes my heart smile.
For I know
the ending of leaves
means the beginning of snow.

So, you see,
as each joy ends,
a new one begins.
More joyful,
more glorious, and
more spectacular.

Lily Switka


I recall a day in April
Where I’m sitting in my bed,
And in which a fleeting memory
Had been exiting my head.

Oh, what was this little memory,
Of all days, which was it from?
I have trouble with remembering
From what time it had come.

And about that lovely memory,
Tell me where it has to go!
Why can’t it stay forever?
I would truly love to know!

Imaging the memory-land
Is really quite the thing to do.
Before you make a joke of me,
What if the memory was you?

You’d float out of the labyrinth
That we’ve come to call a brain,
But not before presenting
People kissing in the rain.

Or maybe you’re from childhood:
Youngsters playing in their yards,
Sharing secrets with your best friend,
Signing family birthday cards,

Eating ice cream in the summer
When the singing truck rolls by,
Getting tight hugs from your mother
When your teacher makes you cry.

You keep on floating farther
Away from mankind’s head,
And you only return to us
When someone loved is dead.

How treacherous a thing that we
Forget what came before;
In your melancholy silence
You always leave us wanting more.

For when you’re first beginning
And existing in our mind,
A thought you are no longer:
You’re a very special kind,

Thoughts can’t make us cry or laugh,
Or remember perfect days,
And without you little memories
Our lives would be a waste.