Did you know daylight saving time started today? Spring is around the corner. After waking up today, I opened all of the blinds in my room and stared at the tall pine trees in my backyard…I love their deep green color. They are captivating because, regardless of the season, they remain the same. But more captivating is the green grass that’s sprouting among my dormant lawn. It’s another sign that spring is coming. After the harsh winter, I see signs of life in nature…. This morning I found some time to meditate and think about the last couple of days. It seems that we have gone through an emotional roller coaster…so many highs and equally lows. At the center of it all is you, a man who is being pulled in many directions and trying to …show more content…
A father whose dedication to his daughter amazes me; they way you love Paige is how I feel every father should love their child/children. A man with a gentle spirit who believes in kindness, generosity, and love. An optimist who sees the brighter side of things. A creative mind that doesn’t limit itself to boundaries or constrains. A caring heart that would much rather deal with pain and disappointment internally rather than to hurt others. In you, I’ve found a dear friend who I can be open with and trust with my thoughts, emotions, past, failures, disappointments, dreams, and hopes. When I read your profile on tinder, I immediately felt something for you (it was not love or sexual attraction). I really wanted to reach out to you give you a hug and reassure you that everything would be okay. When I sent you that message, I really just hoped that my words would provide a bit of encouragement. After chatting for a couple of days, I recognized the beauty that was within you and I ran away. I cut you off because I started to fall for you but I knew that you wouldn’t/couldn’t give me your heart. You could have let me go but you gave me a way to find
As time went on, though, things changed. I should have known it was too good to be true. It was no abrupt change. Today I realize it was subtle. You were sneaky. You began to get jealous of my attention to other things besides you. Slowly at first you called me away from my relationships, my schooling, my work, and ultimately my goals. I became preoccupi...
It was a most beautiful season; never did the fields bestow a more plentiful harvest, or the vines yield a more luxuriant vintage; but my eyes were insensible to the charms of nature. And the same feelings which made me neglect the scenes around me caused me also to forget those friends who were so many miles away, and whom I had not seen for so long.
In the poem “The Double Play”, the author uses metaphors, words, and phrases to suggest turning a double play in baseball is like a dance. Some words throughout the poem could be used to connect the idea of a double play being like dancing. One word that could suggest this is, the word used “poised”, “Its flight to the running poised second baseman” (12). Poised in this sense could mean that the player knows what he is doing and has mastered the double play, while a dancer can be poised meaning light and graceful. Another word in this poem that relate to a double play and dancing is the term “pirouettes”, “Pirouettes / leaping, above the slide, to throw” (13-14). The player is described to be doing a pirouette in the double play while in the
We were driving to the Wakulla Springs Lodge. Mom and Dad wanted to go there before the butterflies migrate. I wanted to go to the movies.
The water was calm, like the morning; both were starting to get ready for the day ahead. The silent water signals that although rough times occurred previously, the new day was a new start for the world. As I went closer to the water, I heard the subtle lapping of the water against the small rocks on the shore. Every sign of nature signals a change in life; no matter how slight, a change is significant. We can learn a lot from nature: whatever happens in the natural world, change comes and starts a new occurrence. I gazed over the water to where the sky met the sea. The body of water seemed to be endless under the clear blue sky. The scope of nature shows endless possibilities. Nature impresses us with the brilliant colors of the sky, the leaves, the water. She keeps us all in our places and warns us when we are careless with her. After all the leaves have fallen from the trees, she will offer us the first snows of the year to coat the earth with a tranquil covering. That will only be after we have recognized the lessons of autumn, the gradual change from warm to cold, rain to snow, summer to winter.
Dramatic Monologues The dramatic monologue features a speaker talking to a silent listener about a dramatic event or experience. The use of this technique affords the reader an intimate knowledge of the speaker's changing thoughts and feelings. In a sense, the poet brings the reader inside the mind of the speaker. (Glenn Everett online) Like a sculpturer pressing clay to form a man, a writer can create a persona with words. Every stroke of his hand becomes his or her own style, slowly creating this stone image.
Nolan narrowed his eyes at me, ready to retort but suddenly he shut his yap staring past me. I glanced over my shoulder and spotted our principal, Kay Pal, and his daughter, Janine. Next to her was a tall guy with black hair and dark blue eyes. I recognized him as Kayden Adams, Janine's boyfriend, according to Instascam--I mean Instagram.
I jumped out of my bed, rushed to the window and took a very deep breath. The morning air was full of special fragrant. I could not understand that scent; just remember that it was quite special. Now I know that it was a scent of freedom. It seemed like I could see all the molecules that were dancing in the rays of the sun as a little cartoon bulbs: very light and happy.
The warm spring sun kissed my face as the wind whispered in my ears. As I lay beside the lake I reflect on my surroundings and how this wonder of nature came to be. It is Easter Sunday, a time of reflection and new beginnings. I think about my past few weeks, the places I have traveled and the people and things I have come in contact with. I wonder about my future, and I review my past. I notice a hummingbird delicately landing on a purple flower in the garden. I recall my readings from English class this semester, and I begin to relate to Muir and Wordsworth and the feelings they expressed about nature and themselves in their writings. I enter in to a somewhat trance as I fall in love with the bird dancing and kissing the flower so delicately.
In early March I wait for the wintry snow-covered land to melt and the days very slowly warm with the spring weather. Each day that passes I see the light peaks of green fingers slowly making their way up through the dead foliage left over from the cruel and cold winter. The trees too are showing signs of spring with their buds covering the trees and bushes, in just a few long weeks the buds will start to pop and show the initial sign of spring.
Sometimes the grasshoppers would appear from around a blade of grass as if they were asking for approval to jump on my blanket. Every so often a leaf would jump off its branch to greet me as I sat. It would float through the air as light as feather and land softly on the grass. As the autumn drew near, it was like a rainstorm of brown, yellow and red leaves, all falling to make way for the beautiful spring leaves.
Our walk began at the entrance of the Queens Botanical Garden where we observed a tree that had been present there for quite some time. In front of the garden’s entrance on Main Street there is a tree sculpture that was built in 2002 in dedication to the victims and heroes of 9/11. Also I noticed that the garden's perimeter is enclosed by a steel fence that has the garden’s name and the native plants to that area inscribed on the panels of the fence. The weather that morning was very cold and we had some mild winds. However, it did not take away the excitement we all had toward the plants in the garden.
Fortunately, I wake every morning to the most beautiful sun lit house. I sit on my porch sipping coffee, while I drink in an atmosphere that steals my breath away. Rolling hills lay before me that undulate until they crash into golden purple mountains. Oh how they are covered in spectacular fauna, ever blooming foliage, and trees that are heavy with pungent fruit. Green it is always so green here at my house. Here where the air lays heavy and cool on my skin as does the striking rays of the sun upon my cheeks. I know in my soul why I choose to be here every day. Pocketed in all the nooks and crannies of these valleys and hills are stately homes, rich with architecture resplendent. Diversity is the palate here; ...
When discussing the poetic form of dramatic monologue it is rare that it is not associated with and its usage attributed to the poet Robert Browning. Robert Browning has been considered the master of the dramatic monologue. Although some critics are skeptical of his invention of the form, for dramatic monologue is evidenced in poetry preceding Browning, it is believed that his extensive and varied use of the dramatic monologue has significantly contributed to the form and has had an enormous impact on modern poetry. "The dramatic monologues of Robert Browning represent the most significant use of the form in postromantic poetry" (Preminger and Brogan 799). The dramatic monologue as we understand it today "is a lyric poem in which the speaker addresses a silent listener, revealing himself in the context of a dramatic situation" (Murfin 97). "The character is speaking to an identifiable but silent listener at a dramatic moment in the speaker's life. The circumstances surrounding the conversation, one side which we "hear" as the dramatic monologue, are made by clear implication, and an insight into the character of the speaker may result" (Holman and Harmon 152).
The sunset was not spectacular that day. The vivid ruby and tangerine streaks that so often caressed the blue brow of the sky were sleeping, hidden behind the heavy mists. There are some days when the sunlight seems to dance, to weave and frolic with tongues of fire between the blades of grass. Not on that day. That evening, the yellow light was sickly. It diffused softly through the gray curtains with a shrouded light that just failed to illuminate. High up in the treetops, the leaves swayed, but on the ground, the grass was silent, limp and unmoving. The sun set and the earth waited.