DISCLAIMER: Contains mature thematic content (i.e. mentions drunk driving, one strong word edited with asterisks)

Oh, what sweet music you bring,
When the bow crosses o’er your string.
I wish I could play you;
Just like others do.

I wish, I wish.

Your sound brings such joy,
Your music, so sweet!
I wish I could play you,
If I could, I'd play you.

I wish, I wish.

Your lovely sound,
Makes me not want quit
Learning to play you.
How can they do it?

I wish, I wish.

July 15, 1998

Hornets buzz in my blacked-out brain:
panicked, shrill, harpy-sweet.
Rough hands clamp my shoulders, press into stillness,
the motionless frenzy of deer before dogs
devour their entrails.

Two syllables as a question: my name
in a strange infliction. I pull away.
To him, it’s only another incident
to file downtown. Forms, testimonies
-- They’re my friends,
not a two-inch newspaper column,
an item next to idle gossip and
foreign wars.

There was once a girl,
Who, by name was Pearl;
She loved a good medley to sing,
But she sang so very badly,
So that children to their parents would cling,
For safety from this horrible thing.

A FEW weeks later Hanna, Nicky and Kari were sitting at Red’s Inn, which was owned by Fredrick Quinn, a man about in his late forties. Everyone called him either Red or Mr. Red.

They were all sipping milkshakes; Kari’s was a vanilla, Nicky’s coffee and Hanna’s was a chocolate. As they sipped their shakes, Red came up to them and asked, “So guys; how do you like your shakes?”

They all gave thumbs up and suddenly, they all fell off their chairs and landed on the floor.

“Ouch!”

“Owe!”

“Gaah!”

“Brain Freeze?” Red asked, grinning. The girls nodded.

"Beauty is truth, truth beauty." - Ode on a Grecian Urn

Many have sought her, to praise or to own,
Many to her have sung or scribed,
But none can define beauty.

She runs as effortlessly as the streams of water
That trip and play over the earth,
Reflecting the verdure of idyllic scenery
And adding her own whimsical touch.
She sashays with the wind to create vibrancy
And sprinkles even more color on the palette.

I haven't yet really read in depth all of the articles that you girls have been writing about growing older/growing up, but since the similar idea has been on my mind, I decided to write one too. Apparently mine is a lot longer, and what I thought would just be a one page musing, became a four page essay. I hope that you'll enjoy these gatherings of my stories and thoughts about growing up. I hope one of the young men on here will write one too, because so far, it seems like just "us girls" type of thing. :)

May God bless you.
_____________

Did you know a Shadow can have shadow?

I do.

I found that at 9:40 pm.

While being shone on by the Moon.

I held up my hand, and placed it on the door.

And instead of finding one shadow, I found instead four!

My finger moved up one

The Shadows followed soon

Then down left and up right

Those Shadows followed too!

When the door was finally opened, the Shadows have finally left

And I crept up the stairs into my bed.

And I see the Moon's light from the window

The shadows bobbed, to and fro.