Wilted flower

Dry wilted flower

Slouching in the dusty vase

Looking out into the world it once took part in

Surrounded by outdated bottles

Still as lonely as the women who put him there.

A knitted together family
Looking almost like trees
With their Mossy-Oak coats
Blending with the scenery which is the great outdoors,
Bows camouflaged in their hands.
Standing there with faces as cold as ice.
Making them pop from the photo.
The smell of pine and wood chips fill their surrounding
The birds calmed their mood
Posed for the picture.
Sharing the love for archery
And each other.
Together in happiness
Taken today the picture would be half gone.
A family who used to hunt and be together
Now a cracked log
Split by the economy
Now 2000 miles away their love is stretched
But still strong as the mountains.

The Locker

The cold crowded custard colored locker
Was a prison
With an unwelcoming look.
Crammed with overused text books so packed it could burst
Surrounded by rushing bodies.
Exhausted by the days end.
When summer comes there's a lonely feeling,
Like a single fish in a tiny bowl.




Turcotte, Jennifer."Yellow Locker."27 April 2009.Picture. fhspoetry2009. April 27 2009.

Montana-Home on the range

My home town, is a humble place
A home cooked meal of beef,
A tender and juicy taste
roads are traveled by burly jacked up trucks
for fun we go hunting
for those trophy bucks.
The majestic mountains comfort us
with a peaceful touch
We smell fresh fields of hay
and barley most places you go.
and the proud people call this their home.
we are tough, we work hard
That wont ever change.
Happy to live here home on the range.
Gabcast! channel #1

Song of powers

Mine, said the stone,

mine is the hour.

I crush the scissors,

such is my power.

Stronger than wishes,

my power, alone.

Mine, said the paper,

mine are the words

that smother the stone

with imagined birds,

reams of them, flown

from the mind of the shaper.

Mine, said the scissors,

mine all the knives

gashing through paper’s

ethereal lives;

nothing’s so proper

as tattering wishes.

As stone crushes scissors,

as paper snuffs stone

and scissors cut paper,

all end alone.

So heap up your paper

and scissor your wishes

and uproot the stone

from the top of the hill.

They all end alone

as you will, you will.

-David Mason

Twinkle rewrite

Shining light in the night sky
I think of what you might be
Floating high above the world
jewel of the night sky.
Glimmering speck in the night
I want to know what you are.
Gabcast! channel #5










Michelle Malkin."yellow star." 26 January 2006. picture. Defining Evil Down. 17 March 2009. .

Christmas

The rush of excitement
flowing through my veins
as i fly out of bed to see my mystery clothed
packages and the fluffy white powder out side my window.
The smell of swine and clouds of mashed potatoes caresses
my nostrils. And i can already taste the excitement.
Gabcast! channel #2