Home

Home

A decrepit abode, standing alone

Guarded by dark, sullen trees

All is still, delightfully tranquil

As sunlight filters through leaves

Colorful flowers, like moss on old towers

Weave toward the jagged rooftop

As I look at this place, tales meet my gaze

To which I lose a fragile teardrop

Way back when, this place was lived in

T’was full of light, laughter and love

Windows were opened, sunshine poured in

For someone, this house was enough

It was the birthplace of dreams, of precious mem’ries

Which they clung to when they felt alone

This place lacked nothing, it held everything

For someone, this house was Home

-Melissa Lynne Moody

It fascinates me that there was almost always a time when old, broken-down things were treasured…

Before my family moved, there had only been one house that I’d ever lived in. I loved that place with all I had. It truly was Home.

Whenever I visit my old town, I can feel how it “used to be” my place.

It isn’t anymore.

But it used to be.

I drive by my old house, and for a moment it’s almost like I never left.

I know that house like the back of my hand.

It was Home.

And even though it isn’t anymore, it still… it still used to be. It was a good house… it was a good Home.

I know that one day it will be someone else’s, and I want them to love that house the way I did.

I want them to treasure it.

I want them to live and laugh and learn to love underneath it’s big, gray roof. 

I want it to really be Home to them.

Even though it isn’t mine anymore, I want it to be someone’s. I want them to respect that old place, just like I did.

I lived so much of my life in that old house.

The house didn’t make the memories.

But the house holds them.

And walking through its door is opening the gate to Memory Lane.

Even though I’ve moved on, I don’t want it to be left.

Poem Response Number 11

 

 

Our Walk On the Golden Gate Bridge 

-Robert Moody

Cars fly by on our left,

People almost trip over us,

But on our right

There is a very different story.

As we walk on one of the greatest

Man-made constructions,

We see birds fly together

In a military fashion,

Sailboats cutting through the water

Like a warm knife,

Waves unleashing their power

On the rocks and shore.

All this working together

To make a perfect harmony

Between man and nature.

I want to stay and enjoy all of it.

I want to put this moment in a jar.

But the cold wind is biting at us,

And it is so strong it is hard to stand.

So we turn back to the safety of the car,

To be wrapped in its warmth and comfort once more.

That is a moment I will cherish,

But I wish I will never relive.

For you cherish everything more when

You have it for only a little while.

 Found in: "Words of Art" Poetry Book

        “For you cherish everything more when

        You have it for only a little while.”

        When Robert read those last lines in class last year, they really hit me. I loved how he said it! And I loved the small twist it gave to the end…

        It made me think about how, so many times, I’ve wanted to hold onto a moment, or relive some time simply because it was so special. Sometimes even while experiencing moments that I know will be special to me later, there’s this part of me that wants to make time stop, so I can just… be, for as long as possible. I knew the moment would end, and I would never be able to have it again.

       

        But I guess that’s what Robert really meant when he said that we cherish everything more when we know it’ll be gone soon. The moments that are special stand out when they themselves are alone, away from anything like it. They become like shooting stars against a backdrop of normalcy…

        Everyone has moments. And somewhere, within everyone, is held the moments that were the shooting starts of their individual life.

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Jell-O

Jell-O

Jig'ling Jell-O on my spoon

So Marvelously Maroon

Between my top teeth it'll squish

For more I'll wistfully wish

I love this joyous jelly

Bouncing within my belly
Oh, it is lovely jelly-O

To be completely honest, I don't even like Jell-O that much. But. I was in a mood, and I had to write a poem, so... there you go!

This poem is simply called a Rhyming Alliterisen. It has an a,a,b,b,c,c,d rhyming scheme, and is made up of 7 lines, each of which have 7 syllables, with one alliteration in every line except the last one. An Alliterisen is a succession of similar sounding consonant sounds.