My poems & short stories

[WilloweWolf]

Thanks!

[WilloweWolf]

Thanks!

This is a poem about my dog, Shadow. She died Labor Day weekend, while I was out caving with my uncle. We were in the States, so we couldn't be there when she passed away. This may sound a bit crazy, but I'm closer to my dogs than I am to my grandparents, aunts, and uncle.

I never realized how much I loved you,
Until you passed from this world.
I don't know where dogs go after death,
But I hope it's somewhere happy.

I hope you find everything you want,
From toys to bones,
and many friends to howl with.

I never realized what a good dog you were,
Until you left me forever.
True to your name, you shadowed people all day.
Shadow, I loved you more, with each passing day.

I realize that now, now that you're gone.
You were a good dog, of you I was fond.
Yes, you were grumpy,
Yes you were bossy.

But you'll always be in my heart,
Even now that we're apart.
I don't know where dogs go after death,
But I hope you are happy, more so with each passing breath.

I'm afraid I don't have picture of her, but I'll put one up if I can.

[blue neighbourhood]

Here's a poem I made up yesterday (I love your ones btw!)

~Winter's Poem~

Snow falling off the trees,
Strolling through the Winter's breeze
There is no time of year like this,
To finish the day off with a romantic kiss.

Church bells ringing,
Choirs singing.
Children prancing around with glee,
Singing carols merrily.

But do not forget why we are here,
Celebrating this time of year.
For Christ, our Savior was born today,
And in the stable, a Baby lay.


This was my first Haiku poem (it was about this building thing in my city):
September's morning, early breeze.
Creative building, discuss and debate.
People return, cold and wet.
Natural light, as cars drive by.

Short story-

Life is a roller coaster

Mabel woke up, another dull morning in her cottage. She had lived alone for several years now, after her husband, Sam, had died after a heart attack.
She was in her late 40's, that one day, when she came across a young boy, whose name was Thomas. He had moved into their neighborhood almost a month before with his family and his dog, for his father had a job - in the countryside. Mabel was curious as to what he was doing, he looked lost. "You're all right, young man?" She asked politely. Thomas hesitated, then said he couldn't find his mother.
"We went on a picnic with our dog, and I went to find something to do, but I can't find my way back," he explained. This was the start of when the woman became selfless, yet unnoticed. "Ahh, I see. I can call your parents if you have their number. Just recently moved in?" she smiled softly.
"Yes, we moved in on the 17th June," he told the gentle stranger. "And yes, my mother's number is ____ ___ ____."
So Mabel called them up, and it was his father who answered.
"Hello? Gerald speaking..."
T.B.C... Cx

[WilloweWolf]

Here's a poem I made up yesterday (I love your ones btw!)

~Winter's Poem~

Snow falling off the trees,
Strolling through the Winter's breeze
There is no time of year like this,
To finish the day off with a romantic kiss.

Church bells ringing,
Choirs singing.
Children prancing around with glee,
Singing carols merrily.

But do not forget why we are here,
Celebrating this time of year.
For Christ, our Savior was born today,
And in the stable, a Baby lay.

Nice!

[blue neighbourhood]

Here's a poem I made up yesterday (I love your ones btw!)

~Winter's Poem~

Snow falling off the trees,
Strolling through the Winter's breeze
There is no time of year like this,
To finish the day off with a romantic kiss.

Church bells ringing,
Choirs singing.
Children prancing around with glee,
Singing carols merrily.

But do not forget why we are here,
Celebrating this time of year.
For Christ, our Savior was born today,
And in the stable, a Baby lay.

Nice!

Thank you cx

[WilloweWolf]

Seeing as tonight is Christmas Eve, I decided to write this. If you've watched Home Alone, you'll know what inspired this.

I’m Kaia, the most book-obsessed girl in the 6th grade. I spend almost all my free time with my nose in a book, or online finding ways to trap my brother so he’ll stop stealing my stuff. Physically I’m a rather plain girl. I’m short, a bit on the skinny side, with dark brown eyes and medium brown thin, waist-length hair. And you are about to read how I spent Christmas Eve.

“Kaia, are you sure you don’t want to come? It’ll be fun.” I knew my mom wanted me there at my aunt’s Christmas Eve party, but I’ve been once, and I was the only kid there.
“I’m sure, Mom. You know me. I’d rather read a book than socialize with adults I don’t know.” I said, looking up from my latest book to flash a reassuring smile at her. She nodded.
“Okay. Call me if you need me, and be sure to lock the door. If someone tries to break in, hide with the phone and call 91-“
“I’ll be fine, Mom!” I cut her off. I’ve heard this whole thing many times before. “Relax. I know what to do if I need help.” She nodded, visibly relaxing.
“All right.” She gave me a hug and left with my dad and my brother Jack. Once they were out the door, I got up and locked it, then sighed. “Finally!”

I raced into the kitchen and opened one of the lower cabinets. I pushed aside the pots and pans stacked there and opened a small crawlspace door. Awesome, right? I climbed through, closed the cabinet, moved the pots back into their original positions, and closed the door. Then I rose into a kind of half-crouch and hurried down the short, low-ceilinged tunnel into a small room. I had smuggled old boards from the barn renovation in here and made rough bookshelves. Here I kept all my books that my friends gave me, or I got at yard sales, or the neighbors had insisted I take as my own instead of borrowing them. Or, rather, some of them. I had tons more in my room, which is really a small reading room. The walls are literally bookshelves all around, even the door, except for where my bed and desk are built in. Did I mention that my dad is an architect? He designed the blueprints for the whole house.

There were cushions scattered around on the floor of my little cave. Only me, my closest friends, and my dad (not to mention the people who built this house.) knew about this place. My mom knows I have a hideout somewhere, but she doesn’t know where that somewhere is, thankfully. Jake sometimes reads her journal, and I don’t want him to know about my HQ, or he’ll raid it.

I pulled a book off one of the shelves and nestled myself into a beanbag, pulling a quilt Aunt Cassie made me for my 10th birthday over my lap. I found my place and continued to read. It was the fourth book of the Wheel of Time, a very complicated fourteen-book series that I won’t attempt to explain.

I had been reading for nearly three hours when I heard the voices.
“I wonder who lives here? And why did they leave all the lights on if they’re not here?” One voice said in a failed whisper.
“I don’t know. Just grab as much as you can and let’s get out of here!” Another voice said. I tensed. Thieves! “What’s with all these books? Whatever. Let’s just grab some of the rarer ones to sell.” And they were planning to take my books. Not a smart move. I replaced my book mark and set it on a small stool that served as a side table and got up to grab the hammer I hadn’t put back in the shed yet. After a moment of hesitation, I grabbed a handful of nails, too. I always had been good at darts. And a jab in the calf would only make it hard for these thieves to run. Perfect.

I crept silently through the sloping tunnel to the door, opened it, and quietly got out of the cabinet. The lights had been turned off, so it was easy for me to move without being seen by the weak-eyes robbers. A book fell off its shelf in my room, on the other side of the house, probably due to my cat, Glitch. That gave me an idea. As the two idiots moved off in the direction of the noise, I crossed into the dining room and dropped a heavy dictionary on the floor. After a brief consultation, the two robbers split up, one going toward my room and the other coming to me and my hammer. As he moved slowly toward me, I set up a trap consisting of a baseball, string, and a plastic bag that said ‘have a nice day’ on it. When the man walked through the door way, he fell and pushed down a tripwire. The bag was pulled forward, and the baseball was flung at the man’s head. It knocked him out with a soft crack, causing me to flinch. The man wasn’t having a nice day, as the bag told him to. Then I set up my next trap, meant for the other man.

A simple pressure pad made of cardboard and a large rubber band triggered the iron that broke the other man’s nose. I quickly threw one of my nails at his calf, causing him to trip and fall, and sat on him while I calmly dialed 911. Easy as pie.

When my family got back, the police were shoving the robbers roughly into the cars, and the sheriff was shaking my hand. “We’ve been looking for these two for months, now.” He said, jerking a thick thumb in the direction of the two dazed thieves. “Thank you.” My mom hurried over.

“What happened? Are you okay, Kaia?”
“I’m fine, Mom! All my reading doesn’t amount to nothing, you know. Nor does my obsession with Home Alone.” I let myself be hugged, sticking my tongue out at Jake, who was looking at me in awe. The sheriff had already asked me why I was alone in the house. “And besides, I’m not going to let anyone steal my rarest books. Or any of my books, for that matter.” My dad calmly handed me a gift-wrapped box from Aunt Cassie. HE knew I could handle myself, at least.

[WilloweWolf]

Just a quick paragraph about me. Don't worry, I don't state my full name(just my first name), and I old say what country I live in

My name is Sam, or Samantha. I’m also known as Pink Panther(my dad’s favorite nickname for me), Tidbit(do you know how depressing it is to be short?), hotcoco/hotcocomarshmellow(on Howrse), and the list goes on and on. I’m a rather… unique person. I like to think I’m funny, but I’m probably not. I admit I’m a bit crazy and, well, strange. I’m twelve, and I live in Uganda. My favorite songs are actually kind of depressing if you think about it. I’m rather goofy and I’m often smiling, I laugh a lot, and I’m probably rather annoying, though I wouldn't know, now would I? I have about a gazillion awkward moments a week, and I’m honestly a bit clumsy. I love to write, read, ride horses, read, sing, read, and waste time on Chicken Smoothie and DollDivine. Oh, and did I mention that I like to read? I like horses, dogs, cats, and wolves. Wolves are awesome. They’re a lot like me: Shy, misunderstood, and labeled to be violent(yes, I am a slightly violent child). Oh, did I mention the fact that I love books? I’m a total bookworm. And I’m often rather hyper (no more sugar for me).
Oh, by the way, I’m the younger of the two sharing this account. Just to clear that up real quick, ya know?

[WilloweWolf]

This is a poem the main character in a book I'm writing wrote. Seeing as I'm really the one who wrote it, I'm putting it here. By the way, the 'great white sea' mentioned is the snow. It's supposed to be the middle of winter when Nix writes this, so...

As the frost forms on the window,
In feathery ferns,
Like owls of glass,
I find myself without longing for the green grass.

The green grass of summer,
Holds no joy for me.
I belong in the winter,
In the great white sea.

The snow, the ice, the frost,
Causes my indoor life to be tossed.
As I stare out at the great white sea,
I know the place that holds joy for me.

[WilloweWolf]

This is a story I wrote for a presentation I had to do for school. Hope you like it!

homeschool week story.jpeg (243.96 KiB) Viewed 52 times

Four children clung to various bits of the wreckage of a boat, all exhausted. They had borrowed their father’s fishing boat, but a storm had pulled them out to the open ocean and wrecked the small boat. They had been drifting for hours, and it was a wonder the currents hadn’t separated them. Amelia kicked feebly, propelling her bit of hull to her twin brother, Andrew. “We need to…” She broke off. Ahead of them, two huge, pitted stone hands reached up out of the water, the wrists almost touching and palms raised to the heavens. Each giant hand held a cluster of boulders of various shapes and sizes near the tips of the fingers. “Whoa.” Jacob, the youngest of the four, paddled up to the two. “What in the world…?”
“I don’t know, Jacob.” Amelia twisted around to look for Eliza. She was lying on what used to be a bench in the fishing boat, belly down like a panther on a tree branch, paddling toward them. She paddled in the opposite direction for a few strokes once she was level with her siblings. “Is it just me, or is that a rope ladder?” Eliza pointed to a long, old ladder dangling from the left wrist, fixed in between two of the thicker palm trees. “Who put that there?” Amelia wondered aloud.
“Who cares?” Andrew said, paddling with newfound strength toward the ladder. “Come on, we can’t stay in the water forever.”
“Be careful, Andrew!” Amelia called after her brother, to no avail. Growling in frustration, she paddled after him, muttering about the outcome of rash actions and some rather unflattering things about ‘dim twins and impulsive brothers’. Eliza and Jacob followed, relief etched clearly on their faces.
The ladder was weak and half-rotten, but the four climbed to the top with little trouble. “I still don’t like this.” Amelia muttered.
“Calm down, Amy!” Andrew chuckled, grinning at his sister. “Aren’t you curious?”
“N- Well, yes, but…”
Andrew cut her off. “Then come on, what are you waiting for?” He ran off, closely followed by Jacob and Eliza. Amelia sighed and trudged after her siblings, still not happy.
A rickety rope bridge connected the two giant stone hands at the wrists. Andrew stepped onto it, but the other three held back. “I don’t think this is a good idea, Andrew.” Amelia warned. Her twin just ignored her and sprinted across the bridge. Once on the other side, he turned and beckoned to his siblings. “Come on, you guys!” Amelia shook her head forcefully. “No. That bridge isn’t safe, Andrew. Get back here.”
“Come on, Amy! Don’t be such a wimp!”
“I’m not going to walk across a half-rotten rope bridge hundreds of feet above the open ocean, you idiot. Now get back here.”
“Make me.” Andrew said, making it almost a challenge.
“You’re not going to trick me onto that bridge, Andrew.” Amelia scowled, crossing her arms and giving her brother a level glare. “Suit yourself!” Andrew turned and began to weave between the palm trees on the other huge stone hand. Amelia rolled her eyes and herded her younger siblings away from the edge. Eliza, the monkey of the family, scrambled up a palm tree with a knife Jacob had managed to grab from the wreck of the boat before it sunk. She hacked at some palm branches, letting them drop, while Amelia and Jacob stood well back to avoid the falling branches. “I think that’s enough, Eliza!” Amelia called up to her younger sister. Eliza nodded and climbed back down the tree, the knife held carefully between her teeth. Together, they tied the branches together with palm leaves, forming a rough shelter.
Once again, Eliza was sent up a tree, this time to pick some coconuts. As she climbed down, Andrew returned. “Nice shelter!” He said, grinning from ear to ear.
“No thanks to you!” Amelia snapped.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! What did I do?” Andrew held up his hands to stop the torrent that he knew was about to come. “On second thought, I don’t want to know. I’m not in the mood for another lecture.”
“Really?” Amelia said sarcastically. “I never would’ve guessed. Now get over here and help, or go hungry!” She grabbed a sharp rock and proceeded to cut open a green coconut.
“Hey, no need to be so harsh, Amy.” Andrew sat down and helped crack the coconuts.
“Sorry, Andrew. I’m just tired, that’s all.”
“Mmm. I noticed.”
“Shut up.” Amelia reached for another coconut and proceeded to crack it open, scooping out the soft green flesh.

The quartet had been living off raw coconut for two days when the coast guard found them. They scrambled down the long rope ladder onto the deck of the boat and were immediately hugged by their aunt, the captain. “We’ve been out looking for you for two days! And you were up there the whole time?”
“Yes, we were.” Amelia plopped down on a crate. “Eating raw coconuts.” A few crew members wrinkled their noses at the thought. “So, Aunt Cass, what’s the story behind the Hands?” Amelia gestured to the two huge stone sculptures rising from the water, silhouetted in the fiery sunset. Her aunt chuckled. “Which one? There are dozens. Some say there used to be land here and an ancient people made those before the sea levels rose. Some say aliens did it, though that’s not likely. Ah, the list goes on and on. One thing is clear, though. All the stories say that something was left on one of the hands, a talisman that holds the secret to the Stone Hands.” Seeing the disturbed faces of the children, she smiled. “It’s probably all just myth.” Andrew wasn’t so sure. As the ship’s engine started up and his siblings looked around, he reached into his pocket and pulled out something small and shiny: a piece of polished, star-shaped amber with runes carved into it, spelling some sort of message that Andrew couldn’t decipher. What was the story behind those Hands, anyway? Did the small stone in Andrew’s palm tell it? Or was it just a random piece of amber with equally random scratches on it?