Summer is what I grow in my garden Summer is what I wear on the beach Summer is what I sing in my song Laughing, with the charming daisies Flying, with my rainbow dress Crying, with the waves in the ocean How I wished you could stay
Poem
Flower Punctuations
Flowers are punctuations A dandelion is an ellipsis . . . for its seeds are blowing away. A comma is a lily, for it’s buried in the ground. A colon is two buds or flowerlets: for they are small and have dots. A quotation is two hollyhocks “For their heads reach all to the sky,” they say. An apostrophe is a hydrangea for it’s used and loved endlessly. An exclamation mark is a catmint for it is bright, beautiful, and dotted! A period is a singular baby’s breath for it’s small, short, and stout. A question mark is a jade vine for it’s long, and questions are asked, like “Why are they here?” A dash is a Sakura branch for it’s long—and to the side. A slash is a tulip for it’s slanted/bended to one side. An asterisk is a begonia* *for it’s small and starry and short. An ampersand is a Spiranthes sinensis for it’s twisted & spun. Parentheses are Middlemist reds as they much aren’t seen and curved (slightly)
Spring Will Revive
The sun crawls its way past the horizon. Snow dissolves into the abyss beneath the soil, Clouds gather upon tradition. All that lives droils. Suddenly floral colors are slung across the sky, Humid winds make their way Past the joyful birds soaring high. The leaves begin to sing and sway. They all sing in harmony, What a beautiful melody they make. Their voices align perfectly, Soothing all the aches. The fruits ripen and come alive, The hills sprout with a new cover. Animals and insects strive, The colors of life uncover. Spring has arrived. Along with its grace to heal. Spring will revive, And the world will kneel.
Sunset
https://stonesoup.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/01/sunset.mp4 Warm, golden yellow Against a vivid blue sky Topped with clouds of pink The day is over, Yet a whispering on my mind Gets me to calm down
Crickets
https://stonesoup.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/01/cricket.mp4 I turn and hear them Soft, quiet, chirping voices Speaking by music
Untitled
Blue sky Yellow sun Trees green Packing done House is quiet Quiet still The only sound Is fridge Drill drill Owl watches Spinning chair Spikey brush Tangled hair
Southwold
(Stare the large window.) I stare out of the large window frosted in sunlight. The seagulls debate early in the morning, flying high over the tipped-up roofs. (Sunlight-seagulls debate in morning.) (High the tipped-up roofs.) My ears open, letting in the rushing sound of crashing, golden waves. I imagine them smacking themselves against the rocks. (Open letting in sound.) (Them smacking against.) One by one each bubbling valley opening to a crash of white thunder, stretching out across the crawling sand, licking up pebbles before dragging them back under the sea. (Up pebbles.) Stare the large window.
Papa
“Papa, why do you look so stern?” “Hannah—” “I just want this to turn—” “We can’t have this conversation this much.” My father pulls away at my gentle touch. At this, salty pools in my eyes begin to leak, I suddenly feel shy and meek. I turn my back and run outside. I run for somewhere else to hide. I run through my secret hedge tunnel, run so fast I almost stumble. Coming to the wood shed-house, I crawl to the corner like a tiny field mouse. I hug my knees, let the rivers run down my cheek, there’s a cut on my knee, I don’t care, I don’t speak. But my mind is racing: Why, why why is he so sad? What is so bad? Is all this because of me? Or does everyone feel like a chopped down tree?
Memory Rock
I am the memory rock, I will keep your memories safe. I’ve been here for ages, I am a special place. Here’s a list of things I’ve heard, things I’ve seen, a few thoughts, and one request. The things I’ve heard, the things I’ve heard! I’ve heard the seagulls . . . talk, talk, talk. But my favorite song is . . . the song of the tide in out, in out, in out. The things I’ve seen oh, what I’ve seen. I’ve seen “I do’s” and the happiest kid play. As the sun sets I watch a picnic and a hermit crab play. But come close . . . let me tell you my favorite part. It’s at night when the sun sets and says good night, just for the moon to say hello. Now this beach is my home, it’s a lovely home, and I’m not the only resident. This is a home to thousands of creatures both big and small. Some in the depths of the ocean and some on top of me. You see, I am the memory rock so come see me and make a memory, I will keep your memory safe.
Morning. Sunset. Night.
The Morning is here and the children all let out a cheer. The Sunset said goodbye. He yawned. The children said good night. It’s dark and scary. But I am brave. Drop after drop we look outside. Nothing comes back.
Lighthouse and I
I gleamed across the ocean, As I stood up on the lighthouse. Before I realized anything, A light shined on me. The sound of waves Scared me I had to rush inside. As usual, I purred.
Mirror, Mirror
mirror, mirror wanting to be anyone it sees wanting to be the copycat of you or me