Friday, October 7, 2011
I always tell people that I write all the time. And I do, constantly, but it's not the same. I was writing this blog in my head this morning as I got ready for school. I tend to do that: write in my head... It's what works for me though because you see, if I don't remember something by the time I go to write it down then it must not have been good or important enough.

I'm weird about my writing. I have folders of stories and poems on my computers at home that I've written but no one gets to read them because I write for my own benefit, just because I enjoy the process of writing and the difficulty of describing the "perfect" scene.

I used to be really into poetry. In sixth grade I entered a poetry contest and my poem was about candy. All I remember from that poem is, "I love candy. It really is so dandy." That's when I thought poetry had to rhyme. It makes me laugh looking back on that because now I think of it as a dumb, silly poem. But that short, lyrical piece got published in a book.

I tend to forget how happy that made me, being published. "My poem is in a book!" I recall telling possibly everyone at the time. My English teacher Mrs. O. had switched to a local high school and she hadn't gotten to see the book so I carried it around with me for the longest time in hopes of seeing her. And one day I finally did.

Writing is something I've loved ever since I had Mrs. O. as my sixth grade English teacher. That's probably the only thing that hasn't changed in the past six years, and I love that it hasn't.

I decided, today, that I'm going to write. And I'm going to share what I write, as much as it may scare me. But I know where I'm going to start:

Upon this wall

Sits a friend;

A friend as loving and sweet as they come

This beautiful person with

Lessons to teach,

Hundreds of hearts to fill.

Upon this wall

Sits a play mate,

A friend with whom

Tea parties were a routine.

From the pretend tea to the

Delicate cookies we would prepare,

Everything was required

To meet our satisfaction,

As picky as we were about presentation.

Girl time commences,

The men on another golf outing.

Pink and purple dresses accompanied with

Floral hats set the perfect scene.

Teddy bears and dolls

Make their appearance

Like our prominent smiles.

Casual conversations and

Her cheerful laughter

Ring through the air

As the birds outside

Sing in the summer sun.

A calm breeze blows

Through the open windows,

Sending our hair blowing in the wind

Like butterflies with nowhere to go.

Hours of fun packed into

A simple scene,

A simple but significant memory.

Upon this wall

Sits my guardian angel,

Watching over me silently

As I live and learn.

She catches my eye,

That beautiful gleam in hers.

She is my eyes and my heart

When I am lacking faith,

When in need of a friend.

Upon this wall

Sits a gentle woman,

A kind touch that could make

The hardest hearts melt.

A beautiful soul

In the highest of heavens;

A place of the unforgotten.

Upon this wall

Sits a priceless memory,

A photo showing love

Worth a thousand words;

A time when everything

Seemed peaceful and sweet,

A time when every birthday was celebrated

With cake, family, and friends.

Upon this wall

Sits a photo of remembrance

For the tears that flowed

When it was time to say “adieu.”

Her gift of a floral tea set draws me back;

Back to our lives together,

To the tea parties I used to

Look forward to for months.

Upon this wall
She remains whole,
A memoir in my heart forever.
With love, I will always miss her so,

My dearest grandmother.

I know I've shared this before but it's where I'm going to start because this poem/narrative truly means a lot to me. I cried when I read it at the reading night for our class. That's what poetry should be though, letting out emotions and stories. That's why my new, non-class blog url is after the most emotional song I've heard.