Three little baby blooms,
Buds no longer,
Three baby blossom blooms,
Streaching up toward the sky.
Three baby budding blooms,
Streaching and smiling,
Three baby bouncing blooms,
Floating to the sky.
Petals soft as clouds,
Blue as wild blue yonder,
My baby blossom blooms,
Touches of nature,
Erupting with fragrence.
I think that The Tale of Desperaux is a great book. It’s about this teeny mouse that the king mistook for a bug, and he has huge ears for his size. He was born with his eyes open and lives in a castle. His french mother named him Desperaux. He isn’t an ordinary mouse. He isn’t crazy for cheese, or food, and he doesn’t eat paper. He can read! He insists that there, every day, is some kind of sweet beautiful music, coming from somwhere. “It sounds like honey,” he says. Then one day he decides to follow it, and he winds up tangled in a mess including Rorusco the rat, cauliflower-eared Miggery Sow, light, soup, a hen, a red tablecloth, a handful of cigarettes, and a quest through the dungeon to save the Princess Pea.
Read this book!
Hattie Greene sat in the bench, staring at the dead dry grass. It hadn’t rained for a dreadfully long time. Throat parched, she walked home in her worn shoes. Horrible news was waiting back home.
Her oldest brother, Charles, and papa were staying back while mama, Michael, David, and her traveled back to Ohio to visit cousin Nessa. Aunt Jane and Uncle Jerry were going to take them in until the drought ended.
They traveled by train. By noon, they were back at the old house belonging to cousin Nessa. Nessa was twelve, just like Hattie. They had met once before at Christmas. They were great friends. They found four beads in the cellar, two pink and two blue. They made bracelets.
That night, Hattie sat on the front step after everyone else was asleep. The air was cool and moist. “Hattie,” a small voice whispered. It was Nessa. They lept and pranced in the wet grass like young deer. In the morning they were found sprawled out sleeping on the grass.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was three weeks later now. Hattie and Nessa were the best of friends. They looked for deer in the woods and swam in the lake. They were the princesses when Michael and David played brave knight. They watched Nick the farm dog herd sheep. They ran and danced about in the rain. They cooked and sewed log cabin quilts. Nessa told Hattie her real name. It was Narsissa. Narcissa Isabella Byrd. It sounded like a song.
One day papa called on Uncle Jerry’s expensive telephone. It had rained! It was back to normal again. It had been sprinkling for the last two hours. The grass was green and the well was half full. Betta, their cat, had given birth to five kittens, four gray and one yellow. Papa was coming to pick them up and take them home very soon.
Aunt Jane made roast chicken stew with gravy for dinner.
Three days later at seven o clock, papa arrived. They were spending one more night and then going home. Hattie didn’t want to leave Nessa. When Nessa was helping Aunt Jane with the dressing, Hattie slipped out of the house with a penny or two to the store. She specially picked out some nice calico that was white with pink flowers. It would go perfect with Cynthia’s auburn hair. Cynthia was Nessa’s doll.
Hattie snipped and sewed and measured at full speed while Nessa worked on her bear quilt. Snip and stitch. Stich and sew.
Soon she was done. She put the beautiful doll-sized dress, purse, and hat in a box. Then everyone went swimming. Nessa’s old green dress billowed in the water. Hattie wondered if her old pink dress could billow. It didn’t. Nessa had smoother strokes.
But oh, how did Hattie’s hair billow. It billowed in and out and up and down. Nessa’s hair billowed too, but not as much. Hattie’s hair was longer.
As soon as everyone gat out of the lake, they ate. They ate dinner. They had prairie chicken and rabbit. It was delicious.
The next norning, Hattie had to leave. She gave Nessa her box. “They’re beautiful!” She gasped. She dressed Cynthia in them right away. Hattie got a box as well, from Nessa. It was a doll-sized dress and a purse and a little comb! They were all periwinkle blue, with little pink dots and tiny little sunflowers. They would be perfect for her doll, Maria, with little golden curls. She dressed Maria right away.
Then they all walked to the train station and said their goodbyes. Nessa and Hattie promised that they would write. Then the Greenes climbed on the train and left. They were home in a short time.
A WEEK LATER
Hattie sat down at the table and started to read her letter.
Dear Hattie,
How are the kittens? I hope they are okay. Can you write me their names? Sally had two kittens. Their names are Lucy and Seal.
My quilt contest went fine, the winner was a really really good quilt. It must have been starched white a thousand times. There was this huge pineapple and three coconut trees around it. In the corners there were little pineapples. I won seventh place!
-Nessa
Hattie smiled and dug out some paper.
Dear Nessa,
She wrote.
Jenna looked down from the maple tree she was sitting in and smiled. It was nice to be on top of the world. “Squackk! Hee hee hee!” Sang a kookaburra from far away. Jenna smiled. It was nice, living in Australia. Dusk fell. The kookaburras sang and grinned and giggled. Starburst, Jenna’s favorite kookaburra, landed on her head and slowly swung her head down to look into Jenna’s eyes. A song marched from Starburst’s mouth, singing a song of plain pride. A smile crept slowly up her face. “Squakkkkk! Hee ha hee hee ha!” Starburst burst into uncontrollable laughter. Jenna couldn’t help grinning. She burst into laughter too. Standing up on the thick tree branch, she smiled, laughed and then sang along with the kookaburras. Haunting song filled her ears. Suddenly, she stopped and gasped. Smile, laugh and sing! She thought to herself. It sounded like the name of a poem or book written long ago by a forgotten writer.
MANY DAYS LATER
Jenna danced along on a maple tree branch with the kookaburras. They all grinned and smiled at once, and then burst into a long, shaking, uncontrollable laugh. “Hee ha Hee ha hoo hoo hoot!” Then came the singing. Singing a song of pride, joy, and laughter the kookaburra way. “Eeeka leeka loo moo jot you kam a layyyyyaa..” Over and over again. This had become part of Jenna’s evening routine. Minutes later, leaving honey out for Starburst, she climbed down and walked down the path home. Even now, the smiling, laughing and singing was still ringing in her soul.
Twilight touches the earth,
Just lightly,
Like a stroke of watercolor paint,
Orange, pink, purple, a dab of blue,
Even brown,
Sits for a while,
And then moves on,
Just in time for dusky night to cover the earth,
Just in time,
It’s night’s turn to touch down,
Night’s turn to rest.
Tulips of tickle-me pink,
Tulips tall and hollow,
Mingled in the mist and green,
Those are the clouds in the skies,
Those are the light in the stars,
Those are the chocolate in chocolate pudding,
Hollow and tall with petals softer than clouds,
The world just wouldn’t be quite the same,
Without the extra tickle-me-pink tulip pleasure,
Without the clouds,
Without starlight,
Without the thick chocolate,
Without the tulips,
Just a bit more pleasure,
Taking somthing or other away from the world,
Can make something else leave,
Something like tulips.