Ugly and faded, it hangs on the bridge at our lake. It sits under the mud covered, blue crescent moon towards the end of the wooden post. Each visit, I stared at it, squinted my eyes in disgust and turned my nose into the air. I was left to ponder their once existing love. Confusion erased my admiration and eagerness to visit our lake. Before I continued down the stone, gray path, I kicked it’s small, heart-shaped, weathered body once, maybe twice, and stomped away. Almost two years later, the remainder of his old, broken affection disappeared. Left is a mark of her that slowly fades away. But added, is a new prosperous love that forever stains.
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Sparkling sunbeams dance in the September air, A kiss from the apricot light warms my soul, The heavens breathe a sweet, aromatic breeze, Amber leaves swirl and sway in timeless rhythms, Tips of dark, flowing hair encircle my small shoulders, Gentle, lazy waters lap the edges of ridged, brown rocks, Reflections of autumn trees paint the emerald lake, Water rippled paths trail behind purple-patched ducks, Swift squirrels prance through tangles of branches, Endless cement paths wind under tree-lined shadows, A rotted, wooden overpass captures an impressed memory, Engraved and hand-crafted, hangs a heart firmly nailed, Symbolic of our commitment and promise of a new life. Posts on Twitter:
#Twitterive: Squirrels hopping all around, chasing one another #Twitterive: Sunny, warm, refreshing, light breeze #Twitterive: Rocks along lake #Twitterive: Rotted wood #Twitterive: he ducks are so beautiful. purple, green, and blue patches. White & brown feathers, orange feet. “Araby,” the Dubliner written by James Joyce, is about an unidentified young boy who longs for the attention and affection from a girl known as Mangan’s sister. His crush becomes an anxious, dramatic, obsession of confused adoration. He reminds me of a middle school student with raging hormones that falls in love for the first time.
When the girl finally spoke to him, they talked of the bazaar, in which she could not attend. He offered he would bring her something, realizing this was his chance to gain her love. Impatiently and anxiously he tossed in bed through the night and watched the clock for the arrival of his uncle the following evening of the bazaar. When he arrived at the bazaar, everything was closing down, and as the halls became dark, he realized it was a sign that his relationship with Mangan’s sister was only an infatuation that would not prosper just as much as the bazaar did not prosper. He stated, “I saw myself as a creature driven and derided by vanity; and my eyes burned with anguish and anger.” I feel saddened for the young boy because he didn’t have a happy love story. He was defeated by the reality of the bazaar and the reality that gifts buy love. He was so caught up in buying the girl a present that he did not realize he could have done or said other things to impress her. This story describes what most young people feel at the first sight of love. He stated in the story, “my heart leaped” and “my body was like a harp and her words and gestures were like fingers running upon the wires.” I can confidently state that most of us have felt that way about someone whether it was a pop band, actor, teacher, friend, or classmate. When we are young, we over-exaggerate our anguish and longing for particular people. |
AuthorElementary Education and Writing Arts Student Archives
December 2010
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