The invisible lines sink me down, down, down,
into the light. Unhooked, you could say, falling,
falling. I am leaving the light behind as I drown
myself into a new world. I see a 14-foot-high
grasshopper in my way as I twitch as I stand there,
smelling the cheese snacks in the distance. Where,
where is that beautiful aroma coming from?
Then I venture out. I hear trumpets flare a lullaby.
I see the shimmer on these amazing instruments.
The musicians, I see have white faces, they each have
one pencil tooth. There jackets are of raven's fluff.
Horrible men, I think. Their sweaty index fingers moving
constantly on the little keys. I move on though, toward the
cheese snacks. Soon, I am there, and breathing hard. Now
all I hear is light tinkering of trumpets in the distance.
Delicately I reach out my finger, toward the cheese snacks,
shaking all the way. Then I grab it. I have finished the quest
and have made my father proud. Then I weave through the
crowd of trumpet players, through the giant grasshopper,
and back to where I came from. The entrance is damp and sweaty,
almost a slide down back to my old home. It is time
to leave the old world for the new.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
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Henry I like your post , good job.
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