Ababcdcdefegg. (Poem pattern)
It’s Monday morning and I’m going out to feed my horse.
Stretching out her neck to find the oats and hay.
She’s not a dog of course.
Her head narrow and slender and her color is called Bay.
The glow of the barn in the early morning sun,
Waiting in the alley dancing all around,
and now we’re getting ready for the race to be won.
and now we’re taking off with her feet pounding the ground.
A giant leap forward into the string.
As she’s running forward and I feel so free.
As we’re racing forward we’re only focused on one thing.
As we round a barrel all eyes are on me.
Coming home everything in its natural place.
As I hear a click I turn around to that oh so familiar sound and you should’ve seen the look on my face when I saw that we won first place.
VOUS LISEZ
Creative writing stuff
Poésiejust a random story where everything i do in my creative writing class gets put into it's own chapter.
