As a teen I went through tons of paper and glitter pens writing notes to my friends. I also have several notebooks full of notes that I wrote to one of my best friends, using plenty of code words, of course. In addition I wrote angst poetry and kept humorous journals of my exchange trip to Germany and my family trip to South Africa.
I wrote stories and handed them in as extra credit, even when extra credit wasn't offered. I have a file cabinet full of old stories, poems and school papers. I even started a novel my senior year of high school called, "Visions of Liberty". It's about a girl that runs away to California. She has a quirky family and her dad works for a plastic fork factory. I think I have about eighty pages of the novel written.
I didn't share my poetry much but here is one of the poems that my teacher sophmore year shared with my class. Note: I never had a willow tree but always thought they were cool!
The Old Willow Tree
The old willow tree was always there for me in my time of desperate need.
It was a place where I could sit and grieve.
When hate filled my lungs, the big willow was standing right over me.
I always felt it could protect me. That was my comfort deep inside.
Some days I could just sit and swing on that old willow tree.
Other days I'd sit in my cozy spot and just fall into an endless dream.
I could dream wondrous dreams right beneath that old willow tree.
One unfortunate night a terrible wind storm blew my tree right down.
I could have died at that very spot because that tree was always there for me.
I could no longer dream wondrous dreams.
My nights became sleepless, my bones started to ache with sorrow.
I cried and cried because now I felt completely lost.
There is no other tree like my special willow tree.
I'm telling you it might have only been a tree, but it was always there for me!
I never kept a journal for fear that someone would find it and read it but I did fill a notebook with my poetry. Writing has always been a part of my life ever since I learned how to put a story together in the first grade.
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5 comments:
Hey, Danielle! I wrote poetry, too, but mine wasn't nearly as classy as yours. You'll see what I mean when I write my blog later this week--if I get up the courage to let people see it.
I've never been a poet, but here goes:
Happy holidays to my writer friends and readers, too
May the new year bring happiness and good things to you!
See why I stick to prose?
Thanks, Jan, I like being classy! And if I shared mine, you can share yours! Jen--ummm...there is also a reason that I never pursued poetry!!
Aw, I like the willow tree poem, reminiscent of Shel Silverstein.
I liked the Willow Tree poem too! And I have always loved willow trees. But I'm fascinated by the unfinished novel. You need to bring back the plastic fork factory I think, great element!
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