As you walk among the lillies,
You take care and there you dilly,
You wonder if one could live down there,
Because the lillies are so fair.
Then you hear a voice down from the brushes,
The voice is slow it never rushes.
And it answers, The Lady of the Lillies.
Who else could could have such soft, blonde hair
or dress with such apprpriate care,
The Lady of the Lillies.
Who lulls us all to sleep at night?
who promises us hope and light?
The Lady in the Lillies.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Writers Camp
I had the chance to go to Regional Writers camp and had a heap of fun!
This is the first paragraph of one of the stories I wrote with the help of one of the authors. It is a story about a girl and her mother meeting for the first time in 7 years. I hope you like it!
The day was warm and the garden looked light and airy , when Susan met her mother.All was silent execpt the far off buzz of bees.Susan stared at the rock sitting at her feet, so she wouldn't have to face her mother.A cold wind lifted Susan's hair and she watched her mother staring at the cloudy sky.Susan's mother fingered a silver brooch,an heirloom passed down for hundreds of years.Susan tingled as the buzzing broke the now silent courtyard.She stared back down at the rock and felt anger surge through her, for her mother,her friends and her life.Susan's mother unbuttoned the brooch, placing it in her daughters hand. Her face was worn and thin,her bright eyes now a dull grey.She leant forward to her daughter, tears in her eyes,"It wasnt my fault he died" she whispered.
This is the first paragraph of one of the stories I wrote with the help of one of the authors. It is a story about a girl and her mother meeting for the first time in 7 years. I hope you like it!
The day was warm and the garden looked light and airy , when Susan met her mother.All was silent execpt the far off buzz of bees.Susan stared at the rock sitting at her feet, so she wouldn't have to face her mother.A cold wind lifted Susan's hair and she watched her mother staring at the cloudy sky.Susan's mother fingered a silver brooch,an heirloom passed down for hundreds of years.Susan tingled as the buzzing broke the now silent courtyard.She stared back down at the rock and felt anger surge through her, for her mother,her friends and her life.Susan's mother unbuttoned the brooch, placing it in her daughters hand. Her face was worn and thin,her bright eyes now a dull grey.She leant forward to her daughter, tears in her eyes,"It wasnt my fault he died" she whispered.
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