Friday, December 12, 2014

Concrete Poem


                   By: Sierra


                 The car pulls
                  into the drive,
                   rocks crunch
                   softly, I smile,
                   I'm home, I 
                   step onto the
         old porch, fling open the creaky
    front door, and greet my family; Aunt 
Kassandra, Uncle Alex, my cousins, Dad, Keri,
Uncle Jason... The house radiates with joy and
happiness, I smell the glorious food in the oven,
my stomach rumbles, I take my cousins 
outside to play, they squeal happily, when
 I offer a four-wheeler ride, I screech to a 
stop by the barn, we feed the horse, and
 see Matt S. pull into the drive in his semi, 
we hear a sharp whistle, all heads snap up,
 and we bolt home.

Ode Poem - My Mother's Phone

Ode Poem - My Mother's Phone
           By: Sierra

It follows her everywhere,
Like a faithful dog,
Never acting up,

But one day Mom's phone stopped,
And she was bored and sad,
So we went to the phone shop,
And she got a new pet,
It was bigger, better,
And NEVER broke,
My Mom's shadow, literally,
A Samsung.

Inspired By: My Mother

Tuesday, December 9, 2014

Old Dead Tree

                   Old Dead Tree
                  By: Sierra

I am blowing in the wind,
Withered, bare, dead,
I lead the tribe,
Of young trees,
When the time comes,
I sprout muscular legs,
And lead the tribe, again.

Monday, December 8, 2014

Nebraska Dancing

I get pulled to the dance floor,
As "American Kids" plays,
My dad twirls me,
We dance,
In rhythm with the song...

We dance through life,
Twirling under the starry Nebraska sky,
Watching out for small Huskers, who,
Are trying to dance like us...

My heart is still excited,
But it slowly stops,
When an old man,
Comes up to me,
"That was some beautiful dancing, young lady."

As the country music plays,
So gracefully, Nebraskans dance.

         By: Sierra

Friday, December 5, 2014

Free Verse Poem

           December Fourth's Fire
           Inspired by a real story
                  By: Sierra

The bell rang out,
The radio went off,
The dispatcher calls,
"Semi... fire... hay bales... spreading",
Firefighters shove on their uniforms,
Hop into the fire truck,
Switch on the bright lights,
And sirens,
And rush to the spreading fire.

Rhyming Poem

                    By: Sierra

As I looked at the pearly white moon,
I whistled a soft tune,
The fire crackled,
And I was viciously tackled,
No one heard my scream,
When I woke up from the dream.

Thursday, December 4, 2014

Extended Metaphor

               By: Sierra

War is a pair of deadly jaws,
we try to destroy them,
but our enemies are stronger,
they have strong jaws,
and mountains of piercing teeth,
they trap us in their clenched jaws,
and we,

Found Poem - Inspiration from President George W. Bush's 9/11 Speech

                                          America's Terrorists
                                                By: Sierra

Chaos, structures collapsing,
disbelief, terrible sadness,
quiet, unyielding anger,
we will not be hurt, 
we will defend our freedom,
America fears no evil,
we ARE the brightest beacon.


                               By: Sierra

The thunder roars its entrance,
billowing into the sky viciously,
the first lightening strikes,
too close for comfort,
I rush to my dark room,
thunder booms and lightening cracks,
the rain thunders against my window,
I shiver in my room,
watching cautiously,
and I see the barn,
go up in flames.

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Name Poem


It means funny, pretty, smart
It is the number forty-five
It is like the color of my poetry folder
It is Thanksgiving dinner at my Dads with the family
It is the memory of Kris, my Dad
Who taught me honesty and faith
When he took me to church
My name is Sierra
It means truth, honesty, faith, and hope.

By: Sierra

Acrostic Poem


Friends forever Ready to adventure Important to me Everlasting friendship Never fighting Daring each other

By: Sierra

Monday, November 24, 2014

BlindSight Trust

                                         By: Sierra

“Trust is like paper, once it gets crumpled it can never be perfect again - Anonymous” I believe in that quote a lot. If someone tells your secret, would you tell them any more of your secrets? Trust isn’t just about secrets, you have to have trust to ballroom dance and play on a team, too. 

When I watched “BlindSight” all I thought about was how much trust those kids must’ve had to climb a mountain, blind. To me, Tashi was hesitant about trusting his sighted guide. He was kidnapped when he was younger, and since he was kidnapped, his trust in strangers was crumpled. 

I have to have trust in many different people in my life.  When I dance with my Dad, I have to trust him not only to lead the dance, but also to make sure we don’t run anybody over while dancing. I have to trust my teammates in volleyball. I have to trust my setters to set the ball to me, so that I can spike it. I even have to trust my animals. For instance, my horse, Duke. When I herd cows, I have to trust him not to spook or act up. The point is, you have trust in many different things.

Friday, November 14, 2014

American Freedom

                                    American Freedom
                                            By: Sierra 

Do you know the meaning of freedom? If not, lucky for you, I do. This essay will help you also, by telling you about The Declaration of Independence, personal connections, and choices. While you read about this think about your rights and how America has grown with freedom. 
The Declaration of Independence declared that all Americans had freedom in their life. The Founding Fathers gave most of their time to commit to the freedom act, known as The Declaration of Independence. We should honor those men who signed The Declaration of Independence, for our freedom, and debating with others over it. The Declaration of Independence also states that all Americans should have their own rights. For example; right to bear arms, freedom of speech… etc.
I think about freedom sincerely by thinking about how it affects myself. For example, my Great-Grandpa Dale was in the Armed Forces, and served in World War II. My Great-Grandpa came back to O’Neill after World War II was finished, and lived into his eighties, when he died. My Great-Grandpa would usually never talk about the war, but when he did it was usually in a hurt and angry way. Many veterans have seen many people die, and have seen the treacheries of war. We should honor all veterans for that, by saying, “Thank you for your service.”
My Great-Grandpa Dale died a few years back, after suffering from nightmares from war and had a couple seizures in his lifetime. When I see a veterans video I get all teary eyed, and everything about my Great-Grandpa comes flooding back instantly, not that I don’t think about him often. When you watch a patriot video, do you get teary eyed about a loved one? When I see anything related to freedom I think about Americans’ rights. For example, I can go shoot guns whenever I would like, speak my opinions. 
Choices are a big part of freedom. First, rights and choices are different. Rights are privileges, choices are when you decide between what is right and what is wrong. Say, you decide to do something wrong, your right to bear arms might be taken away for good. What if your freedom got stolen away from you? You wouldn’t be able to get all the different types of groceries, own your own guns, vote for president…. etc. Freedom is sacrifice, patriots, war, salutes, music, veterans, funerals, and nightmares. But, freedom is rewarding, so it is worth it all. 
Now do you know about the meaning of freedom? I hope so, because if we didn’t have freedom, America would be a completely different country. I hope you liked this essay about The Declaration of Independence, personal connections, and choices. Next time you see a veteran say these five genuine words, “Thank you for your service.” 

Friday, October 31, 2014

Dally - The OHS Ghost

                                        Dally - The OHS Ghost

Have you ever seen a ghost at OHS, roaming the halls happily? No? Well, I have, her name is Dally. I will tell you the story of how I met Dally. One cool October day, I was dared by some friends to go into the abandoned modular outside of OHS. Of course, my friend, Samantha, automatically volunteered to go with me, as she was the dare devil of the group. “I’ll go, too!” she yelled cheerfully. Samantha and I slowly walked into the swaying, white modular. As we entered a sweet voice piped up, “Hi, who are you two?” Samantha shrieked, and hid behind me, as I steadily marched deep into the modular, curious of the eerie modular and it’s squeaky voices coming from within. Suddenly a cool breeze slid past me, and a young girl stood above me. Wait, above me! Yes, the girl was floating above me leisurely. 

I gawked at the young girl as I mustered up the courage to ask, “H-Hi, w-what’s your name, who are you?” She giggled, her blonde curls bouncing up and down, “ME, I’m Dally, the OHS ghost!” At that instant Samantha might have fainted and dropped to the floor, if the whole modular hadn’t of suddenly turned into a new, neon covered room. Dally was very tan, bright blue eyes, bouncing blonde hair, and was wearing a teal lace dress with perfectly painted nails and toenails. I gawked at her, she was a living image of perfect. Dally saw how confused I was and explained herself, pointing to different places for effect, “ I’m Dally, the OHS ghost, this is my house, that I redid for myself, I’m sixteen years old, and I have a british accent…” She then carried on joyously, “… that about sums me up!” I gawked at her as I looked around her neon ‘house’, she had a large bed in the corner of the room and a miniature, white rug sprawled on the floor in the middle of the room. She also had many pictures of friends and family on the baby blue walls, along with a very immense stereo by the door. There were two doors on the left side of the modular, which apparently led to a tiny kitchen, and a fancy bathroom. 

Suddenly Samantha was snooping around in Dally’s belongings, when she found nothing interesting, she plopped onto Dally’s fluffy bed. “Anything else you want to tell us?” Samantha said, egging Dally on. “Nope,” Dally said grimly, glaring at Samantha. “Ook, we can stop glaring at each other… NOW,” I told my two unforgiving friends. The two stopped glaring at each other and peered at me, probably wondering what to do next. “I guess we’ll see you later, Dally!” I said cheerfully, practically running out of the modular, Samantha close behind. “Well, that was ca-re-pyy don’t you think!?” Samantha whispered to me while we steadily walked away from Dally’s home.

The next day Samantha and I were walking through the hallway when we saw Dally, trying to teach a not-so-innocent kid how to waltz. She dropped a small radio on the hallway floor, and turned on a waltz. She scoped the horrified kids, suddenly picking her victim, a large boy, who had pushed a small girl in the hallway earlier. “YOU, are a bully, mister,” she said waving her perfectly polished finger under his nose. He glared at her while she took his hand and forced him into a waltzing position, “NOW, you will dance!” 

Dally started to push and pull the bully, Tyson. “Come on, your better than that, get your form up!” Dally mumbled under her breath to Tyson. Now all the kids in the hallway were gathered around Dally and her victim, giggling and laughing hysterically. Suddenly Tyson had had enough, apparently, and shoved away from Dally. “ENOUGH!” the school principal yelled while he stormed towards us. Suddenly all the kids scattered, while Dally disappeared behind the trophy safe, and Tyson sat there, mortified. 

“Mister Tyson! What were you doing?!” the principal shrieked into the vacant hallway. “Dally only dances with someone if they were, A) being naughty, or, B) being a bully!” the principal bellowed. While this conversation was going on I was hiding behind the trophy case with Dally, snickering. Suddenly Dally heard how much trouble Tyson was getting into and floated out from behind the trophy case, straight-faced. “Mr. Principal, he WAS being a bully, but you don’t have to, um, yell at him like that,” she stuttered, looking down. The principal also looked down, ashamed, and said, “Thank you, Dally.” 

Tyson snapped out of his trance and glared at Dally and the principal, I giggled from behind the trophy case. All three heads snapped my way, as Dally laughed and said, “Oh, that was just me, sorry.” From then on Dally has been my best friend, oh and don’t forget Samantha. She floats to all the same classes as me, dances, sings, and most of all protects the victims of bullies. I love Dally, the victim protecter, outgoing, loving, understanding, pretty, gossipy, and most of all happy, Dally. And sometimes, just sometimes, she tells me the story about how she became a ghost.

                        By: Sierra

Thursday, October 23, 2014

Adverb Poem

Jackie screams crazily,
Jackie screams crazily, hauntingly,
Jackie screams crazily, hauntingly, hungrily,
Crazily, hauntingly, hungrily, gruesomely,
When the moon is full

        By: Sierra

Friday, October 17, 2014

Hogwarts Halloween Feast

 The Hogwarts Halloween Feast

As I walked into the Great Hall, I saw millions of glowing, orange pumpkins. I admired the uniquely carved pumpkins, each of them glowing and floating in the air unrealistically. Harry and Ron woke me from my trance involving the sparkling pumpkins. “Hermione, hurry up or we won’t get a seat at the table!” Ron whisper-yelled, already watering at the mouth from even getting a tiny glance of watermelon stacked on the oak wood table
“Ok, ok, I’m coming,” I mumbled, now smelling the appetizing smells that were floating from the double doors, which led to the massive kitchen. I sat down at a never-ending table with Ron, Harry, and Ron’s two older twin brothers, who were pranking innocent people with their newest pranks. Suddenly, four ghastly ghosts, each one missing at least one body part, yelled their war cries as they galloped through the Great Hall, on their wounded horses. The new kids, who were new to Hogwarts, gawked at the ghosts, who were now clear across the Great Hall yelling their war cries, which were echoing off the bewitched ceiling. 
“Wow, what’s up with the ceiling?” I gasped, just now noticing the unrealistic ceiling. “Oh, it’s bewitched to look like the sky, I thought you knew,” Ron said, looking amused, and fighting back a grin. She gawked at the sparkling ceiling, which now had a comet zip across it quickly. The bewitched ceiling was an unrealistic version of the sky at night, in all it’s sparkling glory. Suddenly, bats zoomed around the Great Hall, announcing the entrance of the teachers, who taught at Hogwarts. The grand Dumbledore was leading the troop of teachers to the front of the massive room, each teacher sitting down at their assigned seats. Suddenly, monsters entered the room, roaring their entrance. Some were small, some were large, the small monsters skittered across the floor to their owners shyly, the large monsters slowly padded across the huge room, seeming to brag about themselves. Harry suddenly snapped his head upwards, whistling to his snow white owl, that was carrying a letter for him. His owl silently soared down to Harry, and landed gently on his shoulder, I gaped at the lovely owl. 
“This is just too much to take in…” I thought out loud. Ron laughed, and just shook his head at me. Suddenly, Dumbledore stood, and everything went deathly quiet. “Ahem, students, we will now begin the feast, new students we will choose your house out of the Hat after dinner, thank you,” Dumbledoor said graciously. Then, as if materializing out of nowhere, ginormous mounds of food popped up onto the shiny, golden plates. Immediately pitchers of orange, apple, and grape juice were put onto the table, and so was water and milk. Suddenly it was VERY loud, kids, adults, monsters, ghosts. All were laughing, whooping, talking, yelling, or making ruckus, like Ron’s mischievous twin brothers. As of right now they were exploding confetti bombs all around us. As if the kids had just then saw the food, everything got quiet, except for kids, monster, ghosts, and adults chomping on the flavorful food. 
There was all kinds of food; Italian noodles, lamb chops, fish of all types, ham, mashed potatoes, oranges, apples, grapes, watermelon, pineapple, enchiladas, fried rice, mushrooms, carrots, celery, peanut butter, meatloaf, and many more different types of foods. The glittering, golden goblets were filled with many different types of scrumptious liquids like; fresh milk, water from an aging well, all types of foamy pop, and fresh juice. I quickly ate until my stomach was completely full, I stuffed myself with enchiladas, mushrooms, ham, noodles, lamb chops, and drank water, Sierra Mist, and most of all Dr. Pepper. Everyone was hyped up on pop, so it sounded like a bomb had went off in the Great Hall, the only ones quiet were the teachers. All the teachers were sitting innocently, sipping their wine, clearly just letting all the children have fun, until the first day of real school, that was when the lectures would come. Ron was shoving chicken legs down his throat like it was the only food left in the world, and Harry was about to take a bite of his meatloaf when he suddenly became wan and ran to the bathroom. 
“Ron, stop being a pig!” I told him, suddenly guilty, realizing how harsh I was. Ron stopped, looked up, and, with his mouth full said, “Shhh, mea shungdry mea hwashent hash fwooz like thaisiwn long time!” I gawked at him in disbelief, not knowing what he had even said, I whispered, “Ron, stopping making a fool of yourself, and talk with your mouth NOT full, please!” Ron swallowed his food and laughed, “I said, I haven’t had food like this in a long time,” I shook my head, just when I saw all the food disappear. Ron drooped his head, looking like the world had just ended, “ Those chicken legs were delicious!” 
Suddenly the goblets filled with a sweet, buttery liquid, Butter Beer, and the shiny, golden plates had mountains of sweets on them, like; cake, cheesecake, ice-cream, peppermint sticks, ice-cream bars, Snickers, Reeses Peanut Butter Cups, Skittles, liquid fudge, sprinkles, and many more. Ron chugged the Butter Beer, and when the liquid was almost gone, it would magically refill. Then he used his silver spoon and scooped a bunch of bright skittles into a small bowl, put some mint ice-cream on top of the skittles, and almost a whole gallon of fudge on top. 
“Ron Weasley, you know better!” I whispered to him, as I shook my finger under his nose. I and Ron giggled as I did the same thing, except I put sprinkles on mine, instead of the colorful skittles. Harry came back to the table, gawking at us as we stuffed as many sweets as we could into our mouths. “WHAT are you guys DOING?” he mumbled, “… you just couldn’t wait for ME!” Harry laughed, dumping two scoops of chocolate ice-cream, a brownie, and a whole Snickers bar on top. That night we laughed, and had a wonderful time. Tomorrow was the first day of Hogwarts schooling though, and we were all nervous. How would you even learn to get around Hogwarts? Well, we’ll just have to wait.

                              By: Sierra 

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

"Hey! diddle, diddle..."

"Hey! diddle, diddle..."

Hey! diddle, diddle,
feline and the fiddle,
dairy cow rocketed over the moon;
tiny pup giggled
observe such competitive sport,
And the
china sprinted away with the silver spoon.
      - Revised by Sierra

Monday, September 29, 2014


       Three things I learned through the project include...
               1. How to use iMovie
               2. How to use Quicktime Player
               3. How to use Photo Booth  

Monday, September 15, 2014

Dot Day!

Today in English we celebrated Dot Day. We listened to the book, Dot Day, online. I think Dot Day means you can make your mark on the world, or to never give up. It was a very good book, it got a lot of reasons across. After we listened to the book, we made our own dots. Afterwards, we talked about the meaning of the story. Here is my fabulous dot:

Friday, September 12, 2014

An Unforgettable School Day

English 7 - Period 3

 An Unforgettable School Day

It all started with a cough, then got worse, and it was only days away from the field trip. The field trip that was going to beat all field trips, and we were going to go to a big museum for our sixth grade field trip. A week from the field trip and I was sick, great. That day I went to school, and Mr. Walters finally told us about the big trip. Of course the whole grade had already known where we were going and when. That’s when he said, “Anyone who is sick or doesn’t come has to give me a report on the museum and what we learn at the museum.” I was terrified, I hated essays, and if I didn’t get better in five days, I was a goner.  
The next day I went to school again, but I went home sick with worry and illness. My mother took me to the doctor that day, as I walked into the waiting room I thought, “Here is my fate, the doctor gets to decide now.” I couldn’t believe myself, my mom had given me two days to get well before the doctor got to say whether or not I got to go to the field trip. As I went into the patient room I thought, “Let’s hope for the best!” I thought this with a small, miserable, smile on my face. 
“Well, this is just great,” I said sarcastically to my mom. The doctor had given me a doctor’s note for the rest of the week, including the field trip. I was feeling horrible, I didn’t want to write a enormous, lengthy essay AND not go see the museum. And, to top it all off, I had strep throat to deal with. This, and worrying too much made me sick to my stomach. My mom just brightly smiles and says, “At least you get to miss the rest of the week, right?” Well, she did prove one point. The rest of the week I keep feeling sick to my stomach, because of illness and how worried I was. 
Finally, the day before the field trip, my mother had had enough of my worrying, I guess. She called up the school and asked them, “Does Sierra have to do this essay, or was it just to get the point across?” “She is really worried.” Caroline told my mother that she would ask Mr. Walters.Then, apparently, I didn’t have to do an essay. I think that Mr. Walters was just saying that to get the point across that, if you don't get your grades up your, a) going to miss Mr. Walter’s planned trip and b) have to write a long essay.  

After the field trip, I missed a few more days of school, but eventually got better. When I got back I saw that a couple other people missed the field trip as well. As I was sick for those days, I thought a lot. Me, being worried about everything only worsened how I felt. If I had taken better care of myself, maybe I might have gotten to go on the field trip. I was so worried about that little essay, I made myself even more sick then I was before. So, next time you have something exciting coming up be sure to take care of yourself, and don’t worry about little things, especially for class field trips. 

Friday, August 29, 2014


Sierra Matschullat
Eng7 Period 3

Bedroom Writing

Here is my room… As I lay on my Tempur-Pedic bed in my room, I feel how comfortable it is. It has a colorful, bright, comfy, zig-zag, bedspread on it, too. When I look at the walls I see the zebra, peace sign, wall decals that are stuck on the wall firmly. Just then I quickly sit up because I hear my beta fish, Bolt, he is gulping air from the top of his tank. He is a dark blue color in his body with magenta highlights on the ends of his attractive fins. Bolt’s tank is sitting on a white nightstand that my Grandpa Bob made for me when I was three. Next to my fish tank is my Border Collie’s bed. It is a big cushion, basically. Just then my Border Collie, Shadow, bounds into my room half howling, half yapping. I turn my attention to my cherry-brown colored desk, I see my whirring fan, that I forgot to turn off this morning. I also see my computer that is plugged in and beeping slowly, covered with incomplete papers. I then move on to my closet, three colorful craft boxes are stacked on each other, each containing something else to use to make lovely crafts. There is also an American Doll laying sideways next to the craft boxes. Next to my American Doll is my stuffed animals, I have one big, blue, Build-a-Bear, autism bear, for my cousin Kaedyn who has autism. I also have a small, stuffed pony that my Dad bought for me in North Platte when I was little, and a small, red and white, stuffed bulldog.

When I look beside me I see my nightstand, it contains most of my chargers and headphones in the bottom drawer, stray pictures in the second drawer, and in the first, all my knick-knacks, a flashlight, and a book to read before bed. As I look on the top of my nightstand I see my Ihome alarm that my iPod is currently plugged in to, and the newest addition to my room, my iPhone, is currently plugged into the outlet behind my bed. My T.V. also sits on the top of my nightstand, taped to it are pictures of my Dad smiling at the camera, tagging a baldie calf. When I look to the other side of my bed, I see my CD player sitting there, it hasn’t been used in about six months since I got my Ihome alarm, I silently feel guilty about not using it very much. Next to the CD player is my scentsy, it contains a grape scent as of right now. On the wall to my left, by the door, is my huge dresser that hold some of clothes the inside. On top it also holds all my breakable things, it also holds my lava lamp. It has water inside with small, plastic fish. The fish seem to swim when you turn it on because the bubbles, that are generated from the bottom, are causing the plastic fish to go upwards.

I am rich beyond measure.

Friday, August 22, 2014

My Six Word Story

    Be you,
           because you're already perfect.