She’s always been there from the start
And loved me every day.
Whenever I was feeling lost,
She helped me find my way.
She gave me almost every book
That I read as a kid,
And nothing made me dream as big
As reading always did.
I started writing short stories
Around the age of nine,
Thanks to the books she shared with me
That sparked this love of mine.
I wouldn’t be a writer now
Had she not held my hand
And guided me from childhood on
Through books’ enchanted land.
And every single piece I write,
She always seems to love.
Her feedback never finds a flaw,
All “five stars” and above.
My whole life, I have felt so blessed
She played the biggest part
In pushing me to reach my dream
Of making works of art.
No matter where I go from here,
I know she’ll always be
The person I can count on most
To always cheer for me.
So have a Happy Birthday, Mom,
In every way you can!
I love you to the moon and back,
My all-time biggest fan!
Happy Birthday to my amazing mother! Thank you for always supporting my dream to be a writer! I love you!
They call it a gift, yet to me it’s a mystery. They envy me for it, they want it for themselves. Yet as I wait behind the curtain, I wonder why. Is it still a gift if you don’t want it? I take a deep breath, exhale slowly. The fear overtakes me, I begin to tremble. But as the curtain rises, anxiety fades into excitement. I understand now. I stand alone on the stage, heart racing, dazed in the light. Silence fills the hall. Lips part, one voice echoes out, a small bird soaring through the air.
Strange beautiful gift
Music touches every heart
Poetry in song
My response to Colleen Chesebro‘s Weekly Poetry Challenge #51: Gift & Song. I know this is the third week in a row that I’ve participated, but I couldn’t resist trying my hand at a haibun with this prompt! I hope you enjoy the poem! Thanks for the prompt, Colleen!
Lost among the noise
Music takes no shape or form
Until these lips part
Silence falls, one voice rings out
And they watch my song take flight
The wind on my face
Sings adventure and freedom
Yet the fall is great
Still, life will not wait for me
So I spread my wings and soar
Long summer vacations
Always come with a final break
Before the unofficial season ends.
One last long weekend and we’ll
Return to our everyday routines.
Don’t waste your last days of summer!
Autumn is just around the corner.
You work hard all year, so enjoy!
Happy Labor Day to all my readers in the U.S.! Have a great long weekend!
I love you and everything about you.
I love how compatible we are and how well we get along.
I love how much brighter my life has been since you came into it.
I love the way you look at me with those adoring brown eyes.
I love the way you smile at me every time you see me.
I love the way you tell me that I’m beautiful, that I’m smart, that I’m wonderful, and that you can’t imagine your life without me.
I love that I can’t imagine my life without you either.
I love that you’re an artist and that you know what being an artist entails.
I love that you’re an introvert too, so you also understand the challenges of dealing with people.
I love that you support my writing as much as I support your music.
I love that you respect my passion enough to always give me the time and space I need to finish a piece.
I love that you can handle being in a relationship with a crazy writer.
I love your sense of humor.
I love the way you tease me and how you can always make me laugh.
I love how we share so many ridiculous jokes that only we understand.
I love how I can always count on you to hug me when I cry and make me feel better when I’m sad.
I love that no matter what happens, I always have you.
I love believing that as long as we have each other, anything is possible.
I love how we can talk about anything, or even just sit together in silence and enjoy each other’s company.
I love just being in the same room with you.
I love waking up next to you every day and falling asleep next to you every night.
I love that we don’t have to say good night through a computer screen anymore.
I love that we can finally look into each other’s eyes and kiss each other for real.
I love that you waited for me.
I love that no matter how hard it was or how anxious we both were, you never stopped believing that someday we’d be together again.
I love that you were right.
I love that I can write totally cheesy romantic poems about you and still mean every single word.
I love that you still inspire me to write romantic poetry, even after knowing you for years.
I love how there are so many things I love about you that the word Love doesn’t even sound like a word anymore.
I love loving you.
I love that you love me.
And I love how after all these years of waiting, we can finally be together for good.
I love you, my love. And I always will.
Happy Birthday to my wonderful boyfriend! You will always be the light of my life! I love you, sweetheart!
So you want to be a writer,
But you don’t know where to start,
How to go from making scribbles
To creating works of art.
You have so many stories,
They could fill a hundred books.
But to finish even one
Is much harder than it looks.
So you want to be a writer,
But you don’t know what to do
When a block forms in your mind
And the words just won’t come through.
You sit and stare in silence
At the blank page on your screen.
You’ve discovered it’s a struggle
Just to write a single scene.
So you want to be a writer,
But you’re overwhelmed with fear
That nobody will appreciate
The work you hold so dear.
So you start procrastinating
And you break your writing streak.
Now your writing days are scarce
And your dream is looking bleak.
But to truly be a writer
Takes a dream and so much more.
And you may think you’re alone,
But we’ve all been there before.
We’ve all been through the struggles
And we’ve all endured the pain.
We’ve faced so many rejections
That we’ve nearly gone insane.
But still we keep creating
And we don’t give up the fight,
For the world needs all our stories
To be brought into the light.
So put your pen to paper
And your fingers to the keys.
Always keep the stories coming.
Write as many as you please.
Don’t let anybody tell you
This is not who you should be,
For to truly be creative
Means to set your spirit free.
And the truth is just by writing,
You’ve already come so far.
So you want to be a writer?
My friend, you already are!
I must be a terrible teacher.
Since college, all I ever wanted to do was teach. I studied pedagogy for years. I took student teacher positions at three different schools. And I graduated from my university with highest honors. But evidently, I was unprepared for the real challenge of being a full-time teacher.
I was sure my students would hate me just for teaching everyone’s least favorite subject. So from my first day, I tried to make math as fun and accessible as possible. I tried to create stories with numbers. I came up with scenarios that had applicable solutions. I made every effort to explain problems in a way even the slowest kids could understand. I thought if I made my class interesting enough, they would want to put in the effort to learn.
But I never saw any appreciation from my students. They never asked questions in class, even though my subject is difficult and unpopular. They never requested extra credit, even though I offered dozens of worksheets to help them pass their tests. They never came to my after-school tutoring sessions, even though I sat in my classroom for two extra hours every Tuesday and Thursday just to clear their doubts. By all accounts, they were utterly determined not to learn math.
Yet miraculously, as I sit here grading their final exam, they all seem to have passed with flying colors. Even without answers or extra credit or tutoring, not a single student has flunked my class. It’s as if they all banded together and studied hard on their own time just so they wouldn’t have to endure my class for another semester. Math is extremely difficult; there’s no way they did so well based on my lessons alone. They must have gotten help. Just not from me. Because they hate me.
This story is based on What If? Exercise 24: “The Unreliable Narrator”. The exercise is to write a self-deceiving first-person story containing clues that the narrator is not the person she thinks she is. The objective is to create a narrator who unwittingly reveals that her judgment of people and events is too subjective to be trusted, so readers must create a more objective version of the story for themselves. I hope you enjoy what I’ve written! Thanks for reading!
I was never one
To party the night away
I enjoy my peace
Summer’s almost through
So enjoy while you still can
Parties on the beach
Life is way too short
Choose to make the most of it
Enjoy the party!
Every day I make
Promises that I will work
To change my own fate
The fate of your world
All depends on what you choose
To make of yourself
Don’t believe in fate
Take control of your own life
Make your destiny