I'm actually really tired of this piece, and have a funny story behind it. We had a new teacher reviewing our "Rome journals" during our semester abroad, instead of the old one (a sad breaking of tradition)... and this man was a journalist. One day, he told everyone that he would be asking a few people if he could post one of their journal entries that he liked on his online Rome blog. Everyone secretly got into an uproar at this.

Chapter 6

There’s trouble these days, both in distant lands,
And here at home on every hand;
From the mountains to the ocean strand,
It’s never hard to find:

The king is away in a foreign war,
A crack runs through my own front door,
My neighbor has lost his finest boar,
And my cows have not come home.

A rowboat sank in the village pond,
And three of the king’s best ships are gone;
My tone-deaf aunt composed a song
And asked my mother to sing.

It knows where to guide your fingers
when you play without the notes
it draws them toward the keys
and they sound the way you feel
I think it's true it knows.

How quietly it crouches there
makes me think it is a tame bear
but I know it's wild creature,
even though it sings for me.
Its voice is full, and deep, and true
and unfamiliar to few
and even if you know it not
it comes to brush against your heart
And I wonder what it thinks about
when everyone is alseep.

The two little frogs hiding under the cabinet sat clutching their ears and pressing themselves in to the dark shadows around them. The pink slippers that had a parked themselves in front of their hiding placed seemed to be vibrating and jumping around all by themselves.

I had to write a poem surmising chapter eight of L. M. Alcott's "Little Women" for a creative writing class. Hope you enjoy it!

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

It all started that cold winter’s night,
Any and Jo started that horrible fight.
That is the way it started that day
Listen closely and hear what I say.

Male Animal’s Questions answered by the ex-feline herself, Miss Kit E.!

Dear Miss Kit E.,
I have recently noticed one tigress more than the rest. I read up on everything men do to get a girl to like them. She doesn’t like any of my things, so I now have a Ferrari, three dozen roses, more chocolate than hair, and a broken heart. What do I do?
-Chocolate-Covered Tiger

So I was reading The Brit's essay about randomness (She wrote it in November, you should look at it, it's very good) Anyway this idea came to me out of the blue, so I hope you like it.

MRS DOOHINKLE: So, honey, what are you going to do today?

MR DOOHINKLE: What? Oh, yeah. I might go ice fishing for a whale in the Sahara Desert.

MRS DOOHINKLE: Have fun. Meanwhile I will stay home and teach Dooey the family trade.

MR DOOHINKLE:Which is...

MRS DOOHINKLE:Cheesecake dancing.

MR DOOHINKLE: Ah I see. Where is Looey?

Chapter 2

As if placed on the wind by an invisible hand, they float there.

Paper thin like a Japanese wall,
Like a kite without any strings at all,
They float there.

Sliding along,
Through the eddies and rills,
Of the brook in the air,
Like a boat,
They float.

With tiny sails of amber and jet,
(Like sunlit stained glass windows,)
Drifting as the breeze blows,
Fifteen hundred miles yet to go.

They float there.