© 2009
The Shell
Paper thin and fragile
What once held life
Drifts empty
Upon unceasing waves
To be battered on jagged rocks
Until tide draws back
And on lonely shore remains
The shell of a shell
Recently in family stories, poems Category
I am from pets,
from soft fur and funny antics,
from the leaves sent
flying through the air.
(soft, fluttering, it
felt like nature)
I am from the pond,
the fish going blub-blub.
I'm from fishing rods and gaming systems,
from homemade cooking and take-out pizza.
I'm from Don't touch and Quiet down,
from flopping trout
to jumping clams.
I'm from the nightmares and dreams,
the THUMP-CRASH of my brother
kicking the wall.
I'm from the noises, frightening
and soothing, from the creak of
trees to the croak of toads.
Through the garden, from
under the lazy oak,
I am at peace with myself,
My memories swirling through my head.
--Logan, September 2009, 7th Grade
School got out for the summer yesterday, and the boys look forward to a summer of relaxing and doing whatever. But I do want to encourage them to work on their writing skills -- with all this era's wonderful computer and Internet advantages, the good old-fashioned "sit with a pencil and write" seems to have been lost, at least with my kids. So this summer, with journals in hand, we are going to write a little each day. Stories, poems, books, thoughts -- whatever inspirations lead us to. Remarkably, the boys haven't groaned too much about it!
And after school let out yesterday, we welcomed new visitors to our yard. We've seen many a toad in the yard from time to time, but yesterday the male toads found the new pond. Three of them set up at strategic spots on the pond rocks and croaked. And croaked. And croaked. We saw two of them -- the third was clever enough to croak AND stay out of sight. We didn't witness any mass migration of female toads to them, but those males sure tried to entice them. I really like how all three toads croaked at different pitches. I fell asleep with the window open, just listening to them...
For our morning journals, we decided to all write garden poems. I'll admit we were all sort of groggy when we attempted this...
Call of the Summer Wild,
by Meredith
Sun rising
Birds chirping
Good morning, summer, all
Kids running
Playing hard
Will their mom stay sane
Dogs wrestling
In the yard
Splashing in the dog pond
Butterflies
Flutter by
Flowers growing tall
Grasshoppers
Get off of
My zinnias RIGHT NOW
Sun is hot
Ack, more weeds
Compost, cactus happy
In the night
Bull-toads croak
Seeking their true love
And eating mosquitoes. YAY.
Garden poem
Birds, birds flap their wings
Birds can do almost anything
Our pond is great
We found toads that might mate
We cannot wait
Butterflies, butterflies everywhere
But we care
My backyard, by Logan
Birds flitter past,
While my dogs run fast.
The garden's filled with plants,
The perfect home for the
common ant.
When the dogs meet a skunk
it really
Sprays them well,
And when the dogs do come in
I really hate the smell.
My backyard's a habitat
For animals thin and small
But watch out when it's dark,
For the dogs might startle you
With a sudden bark.
by Nolan, 8 (written November, 2008 -- inspired by his brother playing the euphonium while Nolan was trying to write a story for school)
Once there was a dragon named Droofus. He lived with his family of dragons. He had a mother, a father, and a brother. Droofus was the youngest of his family.
One cool crisp day, Droofus and his family went out for a picnic. Droofus brought the tablecloth and the blueberry pie. His mother brought the picnic food. His father brought the napkins and silverware. His brother brought the cymbals.
"Clang cling clong," the brother banged the cymbals. Droofus said, "Stop it." "Clang cling clong," the brother banged the cymbals again. The mother said, "Quiet down." "Clang cling clong," the brother banged the cymbals again. The father said, "I can't eat with all the racket!"
The brother banged the cymbals again. The birds flew away. "Bang clang," the cymbals were hit again. Far above in the mist of the mountain, a pebble moved from its place, and a gigantic rock on the pebble tumbled down. The rock was heading toward the picnic.
All of Droofus's family looked up to their horror. The rock was about to squash them. Droofus pushed his mother, father, and brother quickly out of the path of the rock. Then he yanked the picnic to the other side of the path. But he left the cymbals. The rock tumbled down onto the cymbals and squashed them. It stopped moving.
The mother and father cheered. The birds came back. The brother was annoyed. And Droofus ate his blueberry pie.
by Nolan, 8 (written around Thanksgiving, 2008)
Once there was an army of turkeys. They had a peaceful time except one day. It was a dark day. Dark clouds were overhead. The turkeys had never seen such weird things. So the army turkeys quickly got their bows and arrows, spears, swords, and battle axes and ran to go tell the villagers. Once they got there, they told the villagers about the dark clouds. They squawked, "Gobble, gobble, gobble." The villagers looked at the clouds. The black clouds loomed even closer.
The turkey army told the villagers where they were going. They were going to the city called Turksong Hold. It was a huge city with lots of beastly monsters on the outside.
The turkey horde boarded a zeppelin. When the turkey horde got to Turksong Hold, they were greeted by the guards. The turkey army moved onward through the city. Finally, they found Lord Gobbler gobbling at his guards in the Hall of Heroes. They told Lord Gobbler about the dark clouds. He said it was probably the Lich King. The army groaned. Lord Gobbler told them to be ready for battle.
When the army got back to the village, they described the situation. The villagers got on the zeppelin that went to Northfrost so the villagers would be safe. The army had built a defensive wall with slits for the turkeys to shoot through. The Lich King's army of death knights were close. The turkeys were ready for battle. Finally the Lich King's army was there. The turkeys fired. The Lich King's army shot. It was a big battle. Swords and battle axes went clang, bash. Bows and guns went vroom, bang. The turkeys won. Then the turkeys went back to get the villagers. And that is the story of "World of Turkeycraft."
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