Second Riddle

 

Well, as it appears that everyone knew that last riddle, I'd best move onto the next one. I won't give the answer to the one previously as I may use it if I am desperate once more. Here is one which I don't think I've told you!

 

 

In Jakarta in Indonesia, Mei's mother had five children; Januri, Februi, Maret, April and... What was the last child's name?

A Song Dream ( or nightmare)

 

Talk about a fear of technology! Sorry all, but I had a weird dream last night, so I wrote a song about it. Here it is!

 

This one's about a dream
I had last night
How a computer tracked me home
And stepped inside
 It put its foot inside the door
And gave a crooked smile
Something in its screen
Something in its mouse
Something in its keys
That made my skin crawl off

 It said, "I've seen you here before
I know your name.
You could have your pick
Of pretty things.
You could have it all
Everything at once.
Everything you've seen,
Everything you'll need,
Everything you've ever had in fantasies."


 I woke up from my dream
As a behind a screen
With a device I've never seen
With a golden sheen
I jumped up to my feet
It asked me what was wrong
I began to scream
I don't think this is me
Is this just a dream
Or really happening?

 Technophobia!

Technophobia!
 I'm freaking out!
I'm freaking out!
This is my personal horrification.

 Technophobia. Technophobia

Computers everywhere.

 I looked outside the screen
At golden doors
Golden computer keys
With golden cords
As my reflection passed
I hated what I saw
My holographic eyes were dead
And a thought passed through my head
A heart that is made of wires can't really beat at all

I wanted to wake up again
Without a touch of computer in sight

 Technophobia!

Technophobia!
Life begins at the intersection.

 

I think this dream may have come to me due to scams, computers knowing to much about everything and my superstition of computers taking over the world. Sorry about the computers being so personified, but that's how I dreamt it. By the way, 'technophobia' is a real word for when you have a fear of technology.





Poetry for Jane

            This one is about the story that you received an exert from. My cousin, Jane, who paired with me,  has been writing it, recommended it as a poem theme. So, I've decided to deliver it slowly, a few stanzas per week until I reach the end. Sorry about there not being much on Lydia, but I honestly don't know much of what is going on in her side of the story. She's a most mysterious character at some points. If anyone could please recommend a title for this saga-like-poem, I would be highly grateful. I apologise in advance for the terrible rhyming in some areas, but, if you've read the sagas in John Flanagan's Brotherband series, you would not find this attempt of a poem too horrendous. Although, they had intentionally bad rhyming...

 

 

A thief from Molasala,

And an orphan from Cosraen.

Unlikely to be friends,

Until the slave traders came.

 

Lydia, her parents died,

 In a shipwreck tragedy.

She didn't understand,

At the tender age of three.

 

Annette, her parents died too,

Died for the Emperor.

She was left with only,

Her twin sister, Ravanor.

 

 

I never realised how sad this book starts before. It should cheer up a bit soon. Mayhap not within the next two verses but it will be brighter eventually, not much though. Its original name was The Story of Trials for a reason.



First Riddle

I will attempt to give a riddle per  week. If you think you know it, say so. If the week ends and no-one has worked it out, I'll give a hint.


We are five everyday items of a sort, and you will find us in a tennis court.

Forced Inspiration.

For a Foolish Friend

 

 

I've been told to write a poem,

And that I've had some Inspiration,

To write about a friend within three days!

I don't grant such a request often,

But I had determination,

To make her amazed.

 

So...

 

L- lucky she may call her-self but     

U- unlucky is she to have poetry that 

C- causes me to wince for it's so bad.

Y- yes! the poem is done at last!!!!!!!

 

 

Unfortunately by Jessica Penrose age 13



Poetry for Clare

 

 

The Snail's Life

 

Time to venture from beneath the rock,

Out to the great unknown.

The door behind me I must lock,

And upon my back, I'll carry my home.

 

Tall trees of waving grass,

Bending, sweeping over me.

My destination I reach at last,

I am filled with new energy.

 

But, O woe, my trail I hate,

Silver, winding 'mongst the green.

They saw it and left some bait,

Horrid Gardeners, they're so mean. 

 

But far worse is the sound of laughter,

And the words,  "Mummy, I'll make Snail Stew!"

I try to escape, but their hands are faster,

Now I am, but snail goo.

 



 

By Jessica Penrose age 13

 

 

 

 

PLEASE NOTE: I am not actually a snail.

 

ALSO NOTE: A friend requested that the valiant snail's name was Bob, so it is.

Sneak Peak into a Story

             How has it been so far? This will be a little different. I've got a paragraph from  an book I've been working on with my cousin. What do you think of it? I'm open to criticism, advice, and comments! As long as it's Inspiring!


             I have come to a quaint path, winding through the trees of chartreuse and ochre. The path is a pale crimson due to the fleeting light cast from the setting of the smoke-shrouded sun. The light through the great, canopy of trees, shines, making all that is dull, emerald. Dotted atop of the sea of grass, are beautiful flowers.  Violets, lilacs, all mixed amongst the many shades of amber, scarlet, heliotrope and turquoise. An azure stream, intermingled with navy, babbles past me, disappearing into the eldritch tunnel that I have just emerged from.

From The Path Through the Trees by Jessica Penrose

           So, what do you think? My cousin and I are writing the story from different character's views. This section is mostly me, but she has often Inspired me.

           


           

Poetry

 

 

 

Trust

 

 

A gift of great value,

A gift of love,

A gift of acceptance,

To be used from above.

 

It's a step to be binded,

 By all but blood,

It's a key to remind us

To give and to love

 

So, give me you're trust,

And I'll give mine to you,

Now you need not to worry,

Cause I'll see you through.

 

Keep on remembering,

'Cause I'm with you,

Yeah, keep on remembering

'Cause my trust is true.

 

Trust

 

By Jessica Penrose age 13 



Poetry

The Brumbies

 

If it is adventure that you seek,

Then turn your gaze to the mountain peek.

There they are, wild and free,

The herd of the famous brumbies.

 

Galloping through water and snow,

On and on and on they go!

Tireless, unlimited, they shall not die,

As over the mountain ranges they fly.

 

Whinnying to each other, they seem to sing,

Now calling to the Stallion, who is their King.

The beauty of them seems to linger,

Throughout the bush and in all its timber.

 

If I was off this road I'm on,

How I would dance beneath the sun!

I'd be somewhere, where I could run free,

I'd love to run, with the wild brumbies.

 

 

By Jessica Penrose age 13