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Author: Cheri Blocher

Posted: 11/26/03; 11:32:11 AM

Topic: student writing

Msg #: 75 (top msg in thread)

Prev/Next: 74/76

Reads: 199

Time Evolution in the midst of time growing rapidly,

Growth Evolving the smallest cell and seed

Power

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The First Recess

Standing away from the crowd,

You hunker in lonesome sorrow

As the others frolic and dance.

Buried from the waist down in tears,

The only friends around are the grasses of imagination.

Your knots of expression slip away

As leafing locks flutter to the ground.

Your branch like fingers

Cover your sadness

Until a singing sapling sprouts

From the earth below you.

Swaying within the cottonwoods,

Your leaves of gold turn into brown,

But your worries have disappeared.

You’ve found a new friend,

One just like you,

Who has come from a life of depression

To brighten your day

And send your worries away.

Some friends may sprout strong,

And some will wither away in the wind.

But the ones like you, who know who you really are,

Will stay by your side

Until the harsh winters

Put you to a frosty funeral.

Even then, they will fall by your rotted remains

And mourn for you until next spring,

When a new sprout will appear and be their friend.

Tessa Porter

bgcolor=white lang=EN-US style='tab-interval:.5in'>

The First Recess

Standing away from the crowd,

You hunker in lonesome sorrow

As the others frolic and dance.

Buried from the waist down in tears,

The only friends around are the grasses of imagination.

Your knots of expression slip away

As leafing locks flutter to the ground.

Your branch like fingers

Cover your sadness

Until a singing sapling sprouts

From the earth below you.

Swaying within the cottonwoods,

Your leaves of gold turn into brown,

But your worries have disappeared.

You’ve found a new friend,

One just like you,

Who has come from a life of depression

To brighten your day

And send your worries away.

Some friends may sprout strong,

And some will wither away in the wind.

But the ones like you, who know who you really are,

Will stay by your side

Until the harsh winters

Put you to a frosty funeral.

Even then, they will fall by your rotted remains

And mourn for you until next spring,

When a new sprout will appear and be their friend.

Tessa Porter

bgcolor=white lang=EN-US style='tab-interval:.5in'>

The First Recess

Standing away from the crowd,

You hunker in lonesome sorrow

As the others frolic and dance.

Buried from the waist down in tears,

The only friends around are the grasses of imagination.

Your knots of expression slip away

As leafing locks flutter to the ground.

Your branch like fingers

Cover your sadness

Until a singing sapling sprouts

From the earth below you.

Swaying within the cottonwoods,

Your leaves of gold turn into brown,

But your worries have disappeared.

You’ve found a new friend,

One just like you,

Who has come from a life of depression

To brighten your day

And send your worries away.

Some friends may sprout strong,

And some will wither away in the wind.

But the ones like you, who know who you really are,

Will stay by your side

Until the harsh winters

Put you to a frosty funeral.

Even then, they will fall by your rotted remains

And mourn for you until next spring,

When a new sprout will appear and be their friend.

Tessa Porter

Into a giant stone chunk of wood,

Stretching its mutinous legs

Throughout the soft peaceful ground of sound.

The life of a wavy wallowy willow on an ONP hill

Is a long, dark and lonely life,

Standing there all alone,

With nothing but the cold black demented worms squirming and Squishing between this Treebird’s lost sad sappy toes.

Bleeding emotionally

Aging intellectually

Dying intensively

So lonely nothing dares to see or touch a tree,

For a tree is a mere piece of paper you dare to look and draw upon,

Only the light blue dancing sky and soft gentle creations

Dare to roam through the fingertips of a green standing heaven

Above a world that seems so far away,

Graceful tree bird embraces its face of intense happiness

For nothing and no one can bring him down,

He lives alone in a spot upon the hill.

Away from the rest

Away from the bunch

Away from a life that never gets punched

So sad but yet so happy,

No friends but yet still a child,

No pain but yet a broken heart,

It is only clear now

That the clear sticky blood that runs from above

Comes from a love that hides in the wind

Mocking a soul

Of untouched happiness.

Jon

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