No Title

Contribution by: Mary Carter

No words, no colors

Could paint what you mean to me

Although so heightened above

Theres more than plenty to love

You are all one could ask from anybody

You’re beyond eesome to all

A golden trouvaille to none appaul

Feel all of euphoric 

To forget

To adore

To allow dark light with meteoric 

No smile, no heartbeat

Matches how yours excite me

Even when your eyes frown

Or your pitter patter is downed

Your presence is always welcomed next to me

You make the agelast cackle

And the micawber waves rapple 

Your expression kalon

To hold

To cherish

To make even the bold feel teenier than a fawn

Viridity, innocence, advantage you will not take

I adore your hand in mine every step of the way

I hope my words come across as they mean

For you are everything to me ❤

No title

Contribution by: Mary Carter

A mirror in a dark room that still somehow manages to reflect the sunrise

Each star, each nova lands upon your irises

Although deep and eased, the eesome life sprouts

A discovery, perhaps retrouvaille meeting one as yourself

 It was familiar, such silence stood by my side

A looming shadow misunderstood for its eyes

Its hovering luminosity just awaiting to sprout

And blooming you would, just moments from callout

You had come to content to be solivagant journeyed

But no, oh no would I allow such thing

For you’re the irenic piece the golden seamed platter required

And click you would, as all had dreamt

Lean yet hurculaic, what a fitting extent

Murmuring yet bold, just to get out your intent

Dark shades, drawing gaze, and yet all come to praise

The soft tone displayed for all the bees to the honeycombed dismay

Taped Snail 

Contribution by Mary Carter 

The snail who was in love with a tape dispenser,

Had you not heard such a preposterous tale?

They had little snail kids with plastic wrapped eyes,

And a million shared nick nacks they were so very attached to.

The snail was always an odd little slimeball.

He had an ugly shell and smelt of rug lint.

His favorite drug was warm milk

And he never could spell the word “guinea”

But its a chemical, being in love,

And all supposed they were meant to be together

He chanted he didn’t care what she may be,

Just that he loved her and was sure she loved he.

Their anklebiters were funny little saplings

Named each after a brand of syruped glue

But none were ready to leave the house when time arrived

So remain a snail, his dispenser and 3 little paperclips.

The snail with his tape dispenser,

And their three little dispensered children.

Prosperous no matter what the other snails may say

And thats just how he wanted it to be.

Taped together, forever.

No title

Contribution by: anonymous

The sweetest taste, the smoothest skin

although your hand, intangible,

your hair shines such a bright gold.

I crave that which I cannot remember nor forget, 

and the tears that well behind my eyes

fall for someone that I don’t know yet.

I saw you last night in the split moment

between being awake and being asleep

and I hope to see you again tonight as well,

I don’t understand why you exist this way;

a flickering light, illuminating the shadows

only to disappear the moment I look to your face.

What sweet sorrow

Adam and Eve

A contribution from Declan Daniel

A rib was pulled from his side,

Soon she was molded to be his Lover:

Tiny whispers calling beautiful bride,

Now with his hand so soft and bare,

He tends to land, 

‘these grounds of heart.’

Nothing mattered… 

But somehow she did

Somehow, she…

Took control of his beating heart,

How could he be so foolish?

Adam knew, 

Love didn’t end wars,

It started them.

But he couldn’t stand it,

Her green eyes.

Oh, how he missed

The solace of her 

Green and citrine eyes…

Her eyes reminded him of the North star. 

Like he could get lost in them, 

if they didn’t point the way back home

Under the bright city lights,

her eyes were the only stars 

that refused to be outshined

She’d give him a smile,

That knocked down common sense 

to his knees,

Want, whispering like silk 

through his mind,

She, so beautiful

He couldn’t describe beauty to someone,

Because you could make anything sound beautiful,

but reality would then drift away with subjectivity,


Her beauty was common truth

A commandment that stands as valid as any of the ten

It was evident.

He’d fallen for her.

“In Five Years” Book Review

Review by: Katelyn Wells

“Where do you see yourself in five years”? Is a question that I found asking myself after I read this story. This is an emotional story, and is meant to move you, but I wouldn’t categorize it as a “romance novel” if that is what you’re looking for. For a short overview, this is a story about a young entrepreneur lawyer who has everything specifically planned out for the next five years, and she plans to stick to them. Things obviously don’t go as planned, and her friendships, engagement, and home-life suddenly get flipped upside down. I highly recommend the book “In Five Years”.

Dazzlers and High Steppers

Our two dance teams at school are the High steppers and Dazzlers. But what is the difference between the two? High steppers are a higher level Varsity dance team where the Dazzlers are the JV version of the team. High steppers perform at the Varsity Sports game and the Dazzlers do the JV and Freshman ones. With a more extensive try-out process, the High steppers also compete in higher level competitions. But in order to be a high stepper, you have to be a Dazzler first meaning no Freshman are allowed on High steppers. Then after a year of dazzlers, they can audition for High steppers. And then the Coach will decide if she thinks that they are skilled enough to be on High steppers. High steppers is also more of a time commitment. They have more practices after school along with practice during the class period. Dazzlers will have less of a commitment and practice less. They also dance many different forms such as Hip-hop, Contemporary, and Jazz!

myDSHSnews is managed by the student media team at Dripping Springs High School. Content is curated by students in Journalism, Photography, Paw Print Newspaper and Tiger Cry Yearbook. Go Tigers!