As usual, this blog, because it contains pictures of a sports team, will be a reminiscing about my school days.
Not because my school days are reminiscing worthy, but because it makes me access a part of my brain that needs more accessing.
The following is a poem I wrote.
I'm guessing I was 13 or 14.
Sir Clark
by: Brandi Long
The night is dark and stormy,
Mom and dad in bed.
I'm all alone in my room,
Scary thoughts in my head.
It wouldn't be so bad,
The monsters, storm and dark.
If only I hadn't forgotten
My teddy bear, Sir Clark.
I left him on the couch.
How abandoned he must feel!
He's probably just as scared as me.
Or maybe more scared still.
Oh, he's surely terribly scared.
Then again, who knows?
He might be having fun
Watching all the late night shows.
He might be riding trash can lids
down the basement stairs.
He could really hurt himself!
But I don't really care.
It's all his fault he didn't come
When mom shut off the light.
It's all his fault if he gets hurt
In the middle of the night.
I'm all alone in my bed.
I sure miss Sir Clark.
He's having all the fun
While I'm here in the dark!
(bowing, waving)
I know. I know.
It's a masterpiece.
I'll just sit back and wait for the children's book publishers to start calling.
(crickets)
But wait! There's more!
To show you my diverse talent and broad poetic range, I'm also submitting the following literary masterpiece for your sensory pleasure...
Burial of the Leaves
by: Brandi Long
(typed as written)
The leaves on the trees begin
to quiver in their await of f
a
l
l.
It is an inspiring season, when colors are changing; dramatically rich f
a
l
l.
The wind dashes among the trees, reaching and straining
to grab the helpless leaves and pull them d
o
w
n
to mingle in a melancholy fading away.
They pass away on the earthen floor from which they came.
Their approaching burial comes in the form of the pure white masses of f
a
l
l
i
n
g snow.
Winter has come.
Does anyone else find it interesting that I just used the word "meloncholy" in my last post?
I think it's pretty melancholy that I happened upon a melancholy poem I wrote 21 years ago on the exact day that I was experiencing melancholy.
How melancholy!
B
This session is also here under "High School Tennis".
1 comments:
I would comment on these lovely ladies but the melancholy has taken me away...i want sun and less wind and whole lot less of melancholitis
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