Siena Facciolo
Main Street Middle School, Grade 8
Leaping through the tangy grass, sweet from purple rains and folded songs. Smiles bouncing and laughter echoing through the mist, cutting into the flowery air. A crinkle in the eyes of a bluebird, a rustle in the smoky stillness, a delicious aroma wafting down the runaway stream -- these make the golden afternoon.
Blending into the deep sky, behind the towering trees and wise faces, is a rainbow. It is still, but ever-moving, shimmering in the rosy sunlight. Turning, catching tear drops, glistening with dusty love and new reminders. This is the ballad, the perfect moment. Finding beginnings, uncovering ends, shining like a fallen star. This may be our time or your mind or his heart. It may be that street or this world or my home.
Maybe that golden afternoon was a spinning, kaleidoscope dream of yesterday, or a tattered cloth, loved by a young girl and kept for no real reason except for the love held in it. Remembrance. A life. Maybe. When I turned, it was gone.
Well written
I thought this piece was well written. I felt happy and peaceful after reading what you had wrote, especially after reading your first two lines:
"Leaping through the tangy grass, sweet from purple rains and folded songs. Smiles bouncing and laughter echoing through the must (I'm assuming that you meant this word to be "mist"?), cutting into the flowery air."
This piece has very good imagery, and your use of vivid details helps paint a very good picture for me, as the reader, to see. I enjoyed all of the "natural" images you used, especially:
"A crinkle in the eyes of a bluebird, a rustle in the smoky stillness, a delicious aroma wafting down the runaway stream, these make the golden afternoon. Blending into the deep sky, behind the towering trees and wise faces, is a rainbow."
The only suggestion I would make would be that maybe you could expand a little more on how it would make you feel when the moment you are feeling is gone.
I commend you for doing a very good job with this piece. I hope you continue writing more pieces in the future.
Becky Birkheimer
Castleton State College