This is an assignment I had to do for english. This is reminiscent of 3 summer ago's. The old friend whom this poem was written for would understand everything. 

Summer Nostalgia

By Kara Wong
an imitation of “Sea Fever” by John Masefield

I must go down to the park again, to the rusty swings and the bench, And all I ask is a blue bike, and hand brakes to slow her still; And the wheel’s jump and the wind’s blast and the downhill speeding, And the west sun o’er the mountain and pink clouds floating by. I must go down to the park again, for the call of laughing dear friends Is a long call and a loud call that may not be muffled; And all I ask is an afternoon with the homework finished, And the soft turf and the spy tree and the hoppers singing. I must go down to the park again, to the rampant carefree life, To the mynah’s way and the `goose’s way where the house’s like a dark prison; And all I ask is my name pronounced from a smiling fellow swimmer, And a reminiscent dream to keep when the play time’s over.

This is a short story I wrote about my adopted Unicorn. Windy might even have more adventure's later!
windy

Windy's Tale

To Fly With the Wind

     The lake was clear and calm. Ripples of sunlight danced 
over its waters, as the sun set behind the jagged mountains in 
the west. Suddenly a shadow swooped down low. The small beams of 
light in the water exploded into a shower of crystal droplets. 
     “Hreeeheehee!” sounded a joyful whinny. The spirited 
creature that had disturbed the lake’s tranquility leapt out of 
the waters, landing lightly upon the soft turf of the bank. It 
shook a rainstorm of light from its tousled mane, and more from 
soft feathered wings. Sunlight outlined its snowy white figure 
in gold, and sparkled of a slender horn protruding from its 
brow. It lowered its velvet muzzle to the ground to taste the 
sweet grass. Then folding lithe hooves beneath, he sank down to 
lie upon the grass. 
     A soft wind blew a whispy forelock away from twinkling blue 
eyes. The creature blew a puff of misty breath into the wind. 
“Sshhhhh” whistled the wind. Windy. Always Windy here in the 
valley. Windy in the winter. Windy in the spring. Windy swished 
his long silken tail. And dreamt of another day, flying with the 
wind.
Venus

A Lost Song


A freestyle poem by me

She brushes by me on her newly found journey,
With not even a subtle glance my way.
I open my mouth to voice a word,
But the words turn to ice in my throat,
As her cold eyes look down at me.

As I gaze into those eyes,
I wonder if there is someone trapped behind that wall of ice.
A flaming sprite of a friend I once knew.
Is that where she is hiding?

I scream for her to shatter the ice that imprisons her.
But she can't hear me.
My flames seek to melt the ice,
But her frosty breath only smothers them.

She walks away now, leaving me buried in my frost bitten ashes.
I wonder if warm summer will ever come again,
To melt down her icy fortress.
And let me in once more.
To keep her warm and dear.


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