Note1: This is my first ever writing put up here.Note2: This was written for my School Yearbook, I'd like to know your opinion on it.Note3: This has a wee bit of errors and one hell of verb confusion. Please excuse me Note4: I posted this because I have nothing better to do than study for a very important test coming up tomorrow.
Westward Wind
It was a pleasant autumn evening. The sun was bright red, subduing it’s majesty for the day over the horizon of the far-away coast. The sky was painted like a striking yellow-orange portrait. The winds of autumn were gentle and a bit warm, hinting a soon monsoon.As I sit here, enjoying the quiet and serene scenery unfold before me, holding a notebook, I do not know what to write. The trees surrounding the wide area of grass were golden-brown, their leaves withering, dropping down onto the lush green grass. An equally quiet stream flows before me, slow and yet active. The crystal clear water reflected the golden sky like priceless crystals. With my legs spread wide, my hands put back for support; I feel the slightly-sharp blades of grass tickling me. I closely watched every leaf falling from its home, down to a completely new reality. The maple leaves looked indescribably beautiful. For me, it was like describing life itself, one day, we’ll leave home only to find another great adventure ahead of us, when that adventure ends, another one was soon ahead approaching, slowly but surely, life goes on.The quiet crackling of the leaves and flowing water felt almost perfect for me to take a snooze. But soon enough, a light breeze blows away my thoughts of breaking for the day. The gentle breeze blew from the West, blowing my short hair all over my face. As I narrowed my eyes to pull my hair to place, I’m blinded by a magnificent scene. The air around was soon filled with white, fluffy orbs flowing in the side of the wind. As I observed, I deduced that they were a guest of beautiful white dandelions, riding the breeze.It felt like the gorgeous flowers were floating in air, slowly, like a slow-but-flowing river. It almost felt like the stars descended down from the sky.My mind was finally at peace. It felt like a gifted sanctuary. Whilst enjoying the lovely and lively guests, one of them dropped in for a visit near me. A single dandelion softly dropped near my thumb, on the grass. I moved over to get it, in time, another wind blew, taking away my special guest. Their journey has yet again resumed.The stream’s reflection was now filled with the company. The reflection of the golden sky and the dandelions looked like diamonds on a gold bed.When I let my mind waver, I’m reminded of last winter. The golden scenery was silver. Different shades of grey and white. The stream was a frozen sheet of ice; the trees were bare with snow capped thin branches. The grassland was snow-piled. The dandelions were replaced by tender snowflakes. A slight wind blew again, bringing a tip-off of an early Christmas blizzard.But only, there wasn’t something here, now, which was there, back last winter. The snow-filled scenery was filled with music of little children, laughing, playing and enjoying the merry snow. Snowballs flew in the air while a few built armies of snowmen. A few skated on the stream while a few made their wonderful snow-angels. Low hums of carols were heard and a distant chime of a bell from the cathedral also orchestrated the vista.Alas now, no more merry voices or sounds of fun in autumn, for children have grown up, moved to the city or have found new entertainment…Maybe they have been whisked away, to another winter by the Westward Wind… Only the sky and the trees knew.As I reminisce, another slight breeze interrupts me and jerks me back to present where now, the dandelions have finally passed beyond, now looking like white dots in the sky. The sky is no longer gold, young stars start to twinkle while a dim indigo fills in. The Westward Wind is steady and unwavering. I pull my jacket up close. I held onto my notebook, I had finally decided what I was going to write. Another layer of wind blew, from the West, I pick up my pencil and now write my story...----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Hope you enjoyed it~ (^o^)/ Boy sure did type a lot~
Note1: This is my first ever writing put up here.Note2: This was written for my School Yearbook, I'd like to know your opinion on it.Note3: This has a wee bit of errors and one hell of verb confusion. Please excuse me
Note4: I posted this because I have nothing better to do than study for a very important test coming up tomorrow.Westward Wind
It was a pleasant autumn evening. The sun was bright red, subduing it’s majesty for the day over the horizon of the far-away coast. The sky was painted like a striking yellow-orange portrait. The winds of autumn were gentle and a bit warm, hinting a soon monsoon.As I sit here, enjoying the quiet and serene scenery unfold before me, holding a notebook, I do not know what to write. The trees surrounding the wide area of grass were golden-brown, their leaves withering, dropping down onto the lush green grass. An equally quiet stream flows before me, slow and yet active. The crystal clear water reflected the golden sky like priceless crystals. With my legs spread wide, my hands put back for support; I feel the slightly-sharp blades of grass tickling me. I closely watched every leaf falling from its home, down to a completely new reality. The maple leaves looked indescribably beautiful. For me, it was like describing life itself, one day, we’ll leave home only to find another great adventure ahead of us, when that adventure ends, another one was soon ahead approaching, slowly but surely, life goes on.The quiet crackling of the leaves and flowing water felt almost perfect for me to take a snooze. But soon enough, a light breeze blows away my thoughts of breaking for the day. The gentle breeze blew from the West, blowing my short hair all over my face. As I narrowed my eyes to pull my hair to place, I’m blinded by a magnificent scene. The air around was soon filled with white, fluffy orbs flowing in the side of the wind. As I observed, I deduced that they were a guest of beautiful white dandelions, riding the breeze.It felt like the gorgeous flowers were floating in air, slowly, like a slow-but-flowing river. It almost felt like the stars descended down from the sky.My mind was finally at peace. It felt like a gifted sanctuary. Whilst enjoying the lovely and lively guests, one of them dropped in for a visit near me. A single dandelion softly dropped near my thumb, on the grass. I moved over to get it, in time, another wind blew, taking away my special guest. Their journey has yet again resumed.The stream’s reflection was now filled with the company. The reflection of the golden sky and the dandelions looked like diamonds on a gold bed.When I let my mind waver, I’m reminded of last winter. The golden scenery was silver. Different shades of grey and white. The stream was a frozen sheet of ice; the trees were bare with snow capped thin branches. The grassland was snow-piled. The dandelions were replaced by tender snowflakes. A slight wind blew again, bringing a tip-off of an early Christmas blizzard.But only, there wasn’t something here, now, which was there, back last winter. The snow-filled scenery was filled with music of little children, laughing, playing and enjoying the merry snow. Snowballs flew in the air while a few built armies of snowmen. A few skated on the stream while a few made their wonderful snow-angels. Low hums of carols were heard and a distant chime of a bell from the cathedral also orchestrated the vista.Alas now, no more merry voices or sounds of fun in autumn, for children have grown up, moved to the city or have found new entertainment…Maybe they have been whisked away, to another winter by the Westward Wind… Only the sky and the trees knew.As I reminisce, another slight breeze interrupts me and jerks me back to present where now, the dandelions have finally passed beyond, now looking like white dots in the sky. The sky is no longer gold, young stars start to twinkle while a dim indigo fills in. The Westward Wind is steady and unwavering. I pull my jacket up close. I held onto my notebook, I had finally decided what I was going to write. Another layer of wind blew, from the West, I pick up my pencil and now write my story...----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Hope you enjoyed it~ (^o^)/
Boy sure did type a lot~Edited by Shera Wizard