These are from my eighth grade English coursework. I'm proud of them and embarrassed at once, because they were the first moment my peers ever looked at me and happily exclaimed that I could write well. Throughout the years that happened more often, but I always took it with a grain of salt, not believing nor feeling I deserved to call it my passion. A good many now know that I happily identify myself in title the same as a maker of art calls oneself an artist, or one who plays an instrument a musician; I produce literature and feel truly a writer. So without further adieu, here is something from the beginning, though I make no claim that these are excellence in literature:

Haiku: The dog

The male dog ran fast
Then he saw a female dog
Guess what happened next

Haiku: The new house

There was a blue house,
A fire burnt every board down
Now there is no house

Diamante: Magic

White
Healing, Tranquil
Innocent, Good, Life
holy, intellect, brute, unholy
experience, evil, death
destroying, chaotic
Black


Diamante: Feeling


Love
Friendly, Caring
pleasant, forgiving, giving
sharing equality, racist, greedy
uncomfortable, vengeance, taking
nasty, mean
hate


Mother Goosebumps: (Little miss buffet)

Little Miss Muffet,
sat on a buffet,
eating at her hearts content.

Along came a tiger,
sat down beside her,
saw how she ate,
and ran away.



5 ways of looking at: (A spark)

A piece of life that ends,
a momentary flash of heat,
a fire viewed from outer space,
a star that dies in seconds,
a falling star viewed by an ant.



Free Form (The sound of waves)

Waves are clapping on the shore gently,
Hhhsplashh, Hhhsplashh, Hhhsplashh,
A wave rises up and crashes against a rock,
the tide moves in to trap any helpless creatures in its wake,
their is a cave in the side of an over hang,
the water drips from the cave walls,
to make a dripping sound on the cave floor,
splank, splunk, splank, splunk, splank, splunk,
the tide advances forward to engulf the cave,
now the only sounds that are heard,
are the waves crashing into the rocks,
the gentle rythm of the waves Hhhsplashh,
the gulls cries for notice of fish in the crashing waves,
Hhhsplashh, Hhhsplashh, Hhhsplashh.



Free Form (The waters rising) Adapted from memory using Boa Constrictor - Shel Silverstein

I'm stuck on this rock,
the waters rising around me,
oh no, oh no,
the waters up to my feet,
oh no, oh no,
The waters up to my knee's,
oh no, oh no,
the waters up to my waist,
oh no, oh no,
the waters up to my shoulders,
oh no, oh no,
The waters up to my shoulders,
oh no, oh no,
the waters up to my head!
Bloop, bloop...


These I have loved:

Being around those who are my friends,
being in plays,
reading fantasy books,
climbing dangerous cliffs,
playing magic the card game.


Free form: (Sudden Change)

Before me is a blue lake,
Not a ripple disturbs it's calm sleep,
Even the trees do not move,
not a single bug seems to disturb the peaceful quiet.
Then out of the grey sky a thunder bolt claps,
it begins to rain,
now the blue lake is rippling everywhere,
another thunder bolt strikes a tree,
the wind is picking up,
making the tree's and grass sway,
the quiet blue day has turned into a savage infernoing storm. (Yes, I made up a word.)

Kender:

Where did my ring go,
Ask the kender,
Has anyone seen my glasses,
ask the kender,
who has my knife,
ask the kender,
have you seen my spell book,
ask the kender...
"Tasslehoff!"




If you've made it to the bottom, I apologize for the retinal pain reaching back towards the depths of your being, but I appreciate that you spent time humoring my poetry.


Thank you!