Stuck on a mountain top. Fuming about tires that go POP. You may not notice, but the view's great. Might as well resign yourself to Fate. Seeing as the spare tire has faded into thin air. Hopefully this spot isn't to near any bear's lair. Find your inner woodsmen! Attack those trees! Or you could put your thumb up and ask a friendly driver 'Please?' Wait a minute. Hold that thought. Wife just got you to read the manual. Load of rubbish, the lot. But, as she's pointed out. This silly book doesn't just give you a throbbing head. There's the spare tire, hiding away! You tell your wife ' I was going to say.....' Two eyes roll in their sockets. But you hardly notice, your feet feel like rockets. Ready to blow you up, up, up. A blissful feeling of floating on air. Wait a minute. Hold that thought. Wife better be adept at changing tires Because you're most certainly not!
PostScript This is based on a true occurrence that happened on the way down from Thanksgiving weekend in Kelowna. Though my father can change tires, he has a strange allergic reaction to all written instructions of any sort :) Thank you! Rebekah Stokes Author of BeKaH's Blog
I'm EXCITED! Can't really describe it One minute, Nervous Next minute, Flying on air My chest is filled with a storm A lot more feeling than the norm Trying to keep in form But I'm EXCITED! It's really difficult, To keep my pencil straight I feel like a horse, ready to surge out of the gate I'm EXCITED! My heart is beating at a very high rate Starting to think, what's happening is, something like Fate. I know it won't be easy What I'm about to do But still, I'm feel EXCITED! It's a FABULOUS feeling and I hope YOU'll feel it one day too! Thank you! Rebekah Stokes Author of BeKaH's Blog
This is a concrete poem. A concrete poem is a poem in the shape of something. My concrete poem is in the shape of a, rather lumpy, puddle :)Since you probably won't be able to read the actual writing in the photo (above), I have provided the actual poem by itself below. I hope you like it!
THE LITTLE PUDDLE
(I seem to write about rain and the consequences of rain, a LOT. Probably because I live in a rain forest in the Lower Mainland of British Columbia :0)
Today the clouds satisfy the little puddle, before, so very dry. With lots and lots of little drops from the top of the sky. They travel down in a straight descent and land safe and sound in the little puddle, on impact creating a little bubble. The wet pleases all ground around, and soon, the once dry stream runs. So all are happy, at least until the nasty sun comes and snatches all the little raindrops away. Leaving not a cloud in the sky, and all the little puddles dry and the ground's fertileness nowhere to be found, and there stream fast losing what it so quickly gained in the RAIN. But until then,
A middle aged man in a grey tailored suit abruptly steps off a city bus. He doesn't look up from his device. Suddenly he smiles. A message has just come in, he has been promoted. A young woman in a mink coat tiredly steps out of a limousine. She looks around. Suddenly she smiles. A man with a note pad and a camera is running up to her. A old woman stiffly steps onto a sidewalk. She looks around. Suddenly she smiles. A little dandelion has managed to grow in one of the cracks of the hard concrete.
It is amazing what you can hear if you sit in the front seat of a car long enough.
For instance, an off tune rendition of ‘Amazing Grace’. Someone explaining, in an English peasant accent, how to win a trip to ‘Go Bananas’. Also a good example, two young voices whispering about some scheme about to be revealed in the next few minutes. A new nickname being tested, and rebuked. A discussion about the supposably ‘purple puke’ found beside the river on garbage clean-up day. An awed voice exclaiming about the tree lined drive that is being driven through. Two high pitched giggles omitted from the very back of the car. A conversation of some rusted treasure found in the midst of hide and seek. A newly developed dialect evolving with laughing at the end of each sentence. A tune hummed with words soon to be added. A talk of how popular so in so is for creating movies in. A topic of weddings becomes a talk of how 'unpredictable the weather is around here'. An attempt at the drama exercises you taught your little sister go horribly wrong. You are interrupted in from your writing by the remark “ You have issues”. You offer a few sharp remarks of your own and then having silenced the various voices of doubt, you resume. Now on the subject of writing, a new book idea is started with the intention of seeing how easy it is to write a certain authors books and advice asked on that subject from the all knowing aunty. A mix of voices fades away as the directions for getting out of the car are uttered and the engine’s noise slowly drains away. Doors are opened and eager feet jump out. A reminder of possessions that must be taken in or face consequences. Soon all the hubbub is transferred to the great outdoors and all that is left is the fast clicking of keys labeled with letters, numbers and signs. The fingers that press these keys must soon depart, for the others are not the only ones who long for the fresh, clean air that is found in a forest full of cedars. A cry of your name is sounded and, slightly reluctantly, you oblige the speaker and leave the calm, peaceful atmosphere, so unlike a few minutes ago, sitting in the front seat of the car, hearing all your two ears could take, quite possibly more!
a plane flies by in the pristine blue sky a bird follows suit his mother behind him chirping "Come back soon, dinner is almost ready, boiled newt!" a chipmunk streaks by a greedy look in her wide, brown eyes a wind blows the tree tries to flick away the woodpecker who's been tapping incessantly all day a mole hurries to dig his hole a raindrop falls with more ready to follow a worm starts his long crawl as a cat swaggers along at a leisurely pace an attempt to save face as a brown speckled mouse disappears underground the white fluffy clouds begin to drift away done for the day however, instead of the bright twinkling guardians of the night a wall of grey takes their place discouraging unkindly any who attempt to give light the wind before just a gentle breeze now starts to release a powerful wheeze the little bird returns home and his mother sings a little tune as she shuts the shutters and dares the door to open FOR WHAT IS A STORMY NIGHT GOOD FOR, EXCEPT TO TO CUDDLE UP AND SNORE AWAY? the chipmunk now fed on all her stolen loot amongst which some boiled newt pulls the blanket tighter and eyes her rubber boots FOR WHAT IS A STORMY NIGHT GOOD FOR, EXCEPT TO FIND MORE TO DECORATE HER TREE? the mole now safe in his hole pulls out his flute FOR WHAT IS A STORMY NIGHT GOOD FOR, EXCEPT TO DANCE AWAY? the worm with all his friends now on the hard concrete begins to sigh FOR WHAT IS A STORMY NIGHT GOOD FOR, EXCEPT TO REMEMBER THE SUNSHINE? the cat having gotten over his defeat proceeds to curl up at his mistress' feet FOR WHAT IS A STORMY NIGHT GOOD FOR, EXCEPT TO PRETEND TO BE FRIGHTENED AND GET AN EXTRA TREAT? oh what is a stormy night good for, except to think of all of these?