Art of Writing was the name of a class I took Senior year at The Academy of the Holy Names. For our final project, we were asked to put together writing samples that we had created in various genres. I quite enjoyed this class and am happy to share with you my efforts.
Eight Word Poem
(light,wind,smiles,little,green,parting,breeze,gone)
I wake up in the morning to the light of the sun.
Walking out the door, I feel the wind brush against my face.
I see the smiles on the little children's faces playing on the street.
I feel the green grass beneath my feet as I take in the beauty of the day.
As the sun is parting from the sky, I feel the cool breeze of the night.
Then the day is gone.
Walking out the door, I feel the wind brush against my face.
I see the smiles on the little children's faces playing on the street.
I feel the green grass beneath my feet as I take in the beauty of the day.
As the sun is parting from the sky, I feel the cool breeze of the night.
Then the day is gone.
Bio Poem
Is the sun so bright?
I can't stand the light.
Is it the heat or is it me?
I live in the night.
There's no one to fight.
There's no one around to see.
I am all alone.
The dark sets my tone.
The others, they sleep 'cause they're free.
I call out with my tears.
I struggle with my fears.
As the sun comes up I plea...
For a day of rest.
To recognize I'm blessed.
And from my demons I'll flee.
I can't stand the light.
Is it the heat or is it me?
I live in the night.
There's no one to fight.
There's no one around to see.
I am all alone.
The dark sets my tone.
The others, they sleep 'cause they're free.
I call out with my tears.
I struggle with my fears.
As the sun comes up I plea...
For a day of rest.
To recognize I'm blessed.
And from my demons I'll flee.
Layered Poem
The bus rolls on.
Into the future.
Away from the past.
It starts the day.
It ends the night.
She takes her seat.
Looks out the window.
She dreads the day to come.
She hates her job.
There is no other way.
He enters the bus.
He goes to the back.
He dreams about the day to come.
Hope lifts his heart and head.
Today is his big chance.
He looks out the window,
As the bus takes him home.
The night shift is hard to take.
Soon he will be home and asleep.
He'll awake when the sun goes down.
The sun lights up her seat.
The brightness guides her way.
The future is all she needs.
The promise of a new day.
The bus rolls on.
Into the future.
Away from the past.
It starts the day.
It ends the night.
She takes her seat.
Looks out the window.
She dreads the day to come.
She hates her job.
There is no other way.
He enters the bus.
He goes to the back.
He dreams about the day to come.
Hope lifts his heart and head.
Today is his big chance.
He looks out the window,
As the bus takes him home.
The night shift is hard to take.
Soon he will be home and asleep.
He'll awake when the sun goes down.
The sun lights up her seat.
The brightness guides her way.
The future is all she needs.
The promise of a new day.
The bus rolls on.
Pantoum
Scrabble is a real good game.
It makes you use your head.
No two games are quite the same.
The board reads what is said.
It makes you use your head
To form word after word.
The board reads what is said.
The score ranks what is heard.
To form word after word.
The point is that you win.
The score ranks what is heard
Even little words like"fin."
The point is that you win.
But losing is no shame.
Even little words like"fin"
Makes Scrabble a real good game.
It makes you use your head.
No two games are quite the same.
The board reads what is said.
It makes you use your head
To form word after word.
The board reads what is said.
The score ranks what is heard.
To form word after word.
The point is that you win.
The score ranks what is heard
Even little words like"fin."
The point is that you win.
But losing is no shame.
Even little words like"fin"
Makes Scrabble a real good game.
Sestina
Christmas is my favorite day.
But it is much more than that.
It's a season of joy,
It's a season of hope,
With everlasting peace.
Oh, and we also play with new toys.
Should I call them gifts, or call them toys?
But on the morning of that day,
With thoughts all full of peace,
Unwrapping presents, this and that,
Looking for the one we hope,
Will make us feel like kids with joy.
It's not just kids who feel the joy.
Old folks, moms and dads, still get toys
Or just gifts that give them hope.
For everyone's a kid on Christmas day.
One thing for sure is that
The most important gift of all is peace.
Wouldn't it be nice if all the world had peace?
And every day had joy.
And everyone had feelings that
Were just as good as toys.
To help them get throough every day.
Let everyone have hope.
If everyone had hope.
And everywhere had peace.
It would feel like Christmas day
With an all inclusive joy.
That's much better than toys.
You can bet on that.
The wise one knows that
All good boys and girls have hope.
And everyone deserves some toys.
Make no more war, but only peace.
Let everyone feel joy
Just like on Christmas day.
The feelings that bring us peace.
Give us hope and joy.
Just like the toys on Christmas day.
But it is much more than that.
It's a season of joy,
It's a season of hope,
With everlasting peace.
Oh, and we also play with new toys.
Should I call them gifts, or call them toys?
But on the morning of that day,
With thoughts all full of peace,
Unwrapping presents, this and that,
Looking for the one we hope,
Will make us feel like kids with joy.
It's not just kids who feel the joy.
Old folks, moms and dads, still get toys
Or just gifts that give them hope.
For everyone's a kid on Christmas day.
One thing for sure is that
The most important gift of all is peace.
Wouldn't it be nice if all the world had peace?
And every day had joy.
And everyone had feelings that
Were just as good as toys.
To help them get throough every day.
Let everyone have hope.
If everyone had hope.
And everywhere had peace.
It would feel like Christmas day
With an all inclusive joy.
That's much better than toys.
You can bet on that.
The wise one knows that
All good boys and girls have hope.
And everyone deserves some toys.
Make no more war, but only peace.
Let everyone feel joy
Just like on Christmas day.
The feelings that bring us peace.
Give us hope and joy.
Just like the toys on Christmas day.
Sonnet
I love the days of warmth and light and fun.
I sleep in late because there is no school.
Playing outside with your friends in the sun.
Splashing, floating and swimming in the pool.
The leaves change color and fall off the trees.
The sun goes down earlier in the day.
What is now the wind used to be the breeze.
The blue of the sky is now turning gray.
The snow is cold but the season is here.
For gifts and joy and thoughts of peace on earth.
Christmas music brings the holiday cheer.
Angels sing of the Baby Jesus' birth.
Flowers bloom and the birds begin to sing.
Three seasons have passed and now it is spring.
I sleep in late because there is no school.
Playing outside with your friends in the sun.
Splashing, floating and swimming in the pool.
The leaves change color and fall off the trees.
The sun goes down earlier in the day.
What is now the wind used to be the breeze.
The blue of the sky is now turning gray.
The snow is cold but the season is here.
For gifts and joy and thoughts of peace on earth.
Christmas music brings the holiday cheer.
Angels sing of the Baby Jesus' birth.
Flowers bloom and the birds begin to sing.
Three seasons have passed and now it is spring.
Dramatic Monologue
In her dreams, she heard the sound.
Reluctantly she woke;
To see the dog they bought from the pound.
And the she smelled the smoke.
"Ernest, dear. Wake up," she said.
"Our dog has brought us hope."
They both got up and out of bed.
As best their bones could cope.
"Marian," Ernest said.
"Thank God that dog was here."
Then arm and arm the old folks fled.
But not without some fear.
For Cindy the dog, brave and true
Was not with them outside.
She gave her life for the two
So that they would not die.
Reluctantly she woke;
To see the dog they bought from the pound.
And the she smelled the smoke.
"Ernest, dear. Wake up," she said.
"Our dog has brought us hope."
They both got up and out of bed.
As best their bones could cope.
"Marian," Ernest said.
"Thank God that dog was here."
Then arm and arm the old folks fled.
But not without some fear.
For Cindy the dog, brave and true
Was not with them outside.
She gave her life for the two
So that they would not die.
