Month of July, 2004

Hey, Laura.

There was once this panda that walks into a chinese restauraunt.

Sorry, nobody cares about your love life.

I must have looked like a really big wreck on Monday at school.

I guess I better tell you a bit about myself.

"Hey, Lena, what’s up? What's new? What's happening with you?" I guess my cheerfulness sounded obviously forced over the static connection between our two cell phones.

I am me
a someone different
no one can change me
from who I am into
something else
I am unique and
different
a girl with stringy
brown hair that falls
on my face
covering up my deep brown eyes
pools of peace
no one can copy it
until the end of eternity
I am unique in all ways
only I can understand
my thoughts completely
and thoroughly
I am a bird flying over earth
my own pattern
no person can create
it over again
never
it is impossible
unique
I am me
no one else is the same
I am unique and different.

my true home
i have all i need
an endless sky of blue
waves of wheat and grain
a single tree for shadow
a babbling brook for water
vines of berries and fruit
a mattress of smooth green grass
a blanket of the wind
a pillow of the earth
endless supplies of
wishes and
simple pleasures
my heart truly desires
a companion for company
all i need
it's my true home.

I love fairytale stories.

This is the way I
like to start a poem
a simple statement,
saying what the weather is like
today
or what I am doing,
or what someone else is doing
at this moment.

People always write about
the moon
and her soft, chick fluff yellow radiance
But what about the cricket
who hops across the ground
and rubs
his little feet together
with glee?
Or the bat,
adrift on her leathery wings
on a quest to find
mosquitoes?
How could they forget
the trees
that groan and whisper and consult
each other
about things
green?
And the spring peepers,
little hoppity things, like stars
that provide the
nighttime symphony?
Or the dark,
smooth
and soft like panes
of glass coated with
honey?
Or the single candle that shines through
the night?
.

in reality, I am just a toddler
gazing up at the world in wonder
reaching with my baby fingertips to touch a new fabric
Silk, maybe? Fleece? inside me,
I am still a baby, laughing at the spinning of the
carousel, those merry horses, with pom-poms for hats,
twirling, the earth on its axis.

When I don’t know what to write
I walk out to my swing,
and sit down
prop up my feet,
with a pad on my lap,
and push,
my hand resting on the bar.

This is the Land
of the Living.

This is the Land
of the Living.

WELCOME BACK TO CAMP FEAR WHERE EVERYONE WAS WEARING THEIR HALLOWEEN MASKS AND DANCING WITH PARTNERS.

VII

Arwa packed her knapsack and threw it on the back of her horse.

VII

Arwa packed her knapsack and threw it on the back of her horse.

VII

Arwa packed her knapsack and threw it on the back of her horse.

Chapter One

Scarlett O’Donnel was popular.

the winter breeze
blows through the trees
lighting the forest floor
tricling creek runs by
nearly frozen to the core
snow crunching underfoot
a bird silhouetted against
a pale blue sky
a forgotten path once again
has been found
a lonesome cabin
old and ancient
the roof has fallen off
subject to being decayed
the walls are still standing
she stares, amazed
who would think to
destroy this place
a wonder of nature
unique like no other
for a building nobody will see?
she walks away sadly snow crunching
underfoot
the last time she will ever see it
the sign says
new site of Furniture factory
she runs from the sign
and home to think about
her place.

For the fouth of July, I hung out with my friends Shambee and Mel.

Hey, I'm not 15 yet.

Right now, my best friend is in Melaysia.

Right now I'm making a huge collage on my desk that shows the things I like in life; things that are important and meaningful to me.

In California, November 10, 2001, proved to be a gusty, rainy day.

VI

The trees gradually thinned as Torc and his friends ascended into the Yeman Valley.

V

The Ogre City of Zark is a wonderful place, built millennia ago by the first Ogres.

IV

‘Well, if you are going to Atlantis, than you better count me in.

III

The next morning Torc awoke rather late.

II

The men advanced quickly until they were nearly upon Torc.

I

There comes a time in every boy’s life when he must leave his home and mother to mold his own life like a potter molds his clay.

Once upon a time, there was a lion.

"Lileri!Lileri!" "What?!" "I'm bored.

Copyright 2004 Rosalie

Title: Troubles With Triplets

CHAPTER ONE
"HIC,hic"
"Oh dear.

The monkeys were swinging from trees to trees.

WELCOME BACK TO THE NEW CAMP EVERYONE IS ATTENDING CALLED CAMP FEAR SINCE HALLOWEEN IS LURKING AROUND THE CORNER ON OCT 31, 2004 HALLOWEEN IS THE NIGHT FOR SUPERSITION, TRICK OR TREATING, SCARY COSTUMES PEOPLE WEAR, BLACK CATS AND WITCHES AND A PUMPKIN CARVED AND OF COURSE PRANKS THAT ARE PLAYED ON HALLOWEEN NIGHT.