Thursday, June 21, 2012
4 Uses of Tea Bags from TLC!
1.
Feeding the plants:
Tea bags are great for your garden. Tea bags enrich the role by increasing nitrogen levels but also give earthworms something yummy to eat! You can put your tea bags in the compost to help reduce garbage and nurture their plants. Don’t compost? That’s fine! You can steep a tea bag in water until the water slightly changes colour and then use it to water your plants. If you want to help your garden grow bury the tea bag outside, don’t worry tea bags will decompose!
2. Under eye Circles:
Do a tea bag compress to get rid of puffy under eyes! The tannin in tea bags has been proven to reduce swelling and discolouration. Either place the tea bag in the fridge or let it cool off for about an hour. Then damp the tea bag over your eyes for 10-15 minutes.
3. Odor Control!
Tea leaves absorb surround odor, even if they have already been used. Place a used tea bag in the fridge, dry out the tea bag, empty the used tea bag and sprinkle your leave in your vacuum cleaner. Your carpets will smell SOOO nice! Even try these spots in your house for a nice in places you wouldn’t expect! -Litter box, wooden cutting board, or your stinky shoes!
4. Sooth the Skin
Tea bags can be used on so many skin maladies. Tea bags can reduce the size of a wart, even eliminate a sty or even a mosquito bite. All you need to do is make sure the tea bag is still warm and that you compress for 10-15 minutes. Tea bags also helped bruises heal faster, and sooth painful sunburn.
Tea bags are great for your garden. Tea bags enrich the role by increasing nitrogen levels but also give earthworms something yummy to eat! You can put your tea bags in the compost to help reduce garbage and nurture their plants. Don’t compost? That’s fine! You can steep a tea bag in water until the water slightly changes colour and then use it to water your plants. If you want to help your garden grow bury the tea bag outside, don’t worry tea bags will decompose!
2. Under eye Circles:
Do a tea bag compress to get rid of puffy under eyes! The tannin in tea bags has been proven to reduce swelling and discolouration. Either place the tea bag in the fridge or let it cool off for about an hour. Then damp the tea bag over your eyes for 10-15 minutes.
3. Odor Control!
Tea leaves absorb surround odor, even if they have already been used. Place a used tea bag in the fridge, dry out the tea bag, empty the used tea bag and sprinkle your leave in your vacuum cleaner. Your carpets will smell SOOO nice! Even try these spots in your house for a nice in places you wouldn’t expect! -Litter box, wooden cutting board, or your stinky shoes!
4. Sooth the Skin
Tea bags can be used on so many skin maladies. Tea bags can reduce the size of a wart, even eliminate a sty or even a mosquito bite. All you need to do is make sure the tea bag is still warm and that you compress for 10-15 minutes. Tea bags also helped bruises heal faster, and sooth painful sunburn.
Tour YOUR town!
A hot drink made by infusing dried, crushed leaves of a tea
plant in boiling water. Dried leaves used to make a drink? What’s this?
Obviously it’s TEA!
Making tea at home is great. It’s mainly cheap, convenient
and simple. Great right? How about stepping outside of your kitchen and
exploring your town? Make a change and treat yourself to an afternoon out of
the house and exploring something new!
Live near Toronto perhaps? If so, there are many great locations to get some breath-taking tea! Below are some suggestions of some hot spots for when you’re looking for an afternoon out!
Live near Toronto perhaps? If so, there are many great locations to get some breath-taking tea! Below are some suggestions of some hot spots for when you’re looking for an afternoon out!
1. House of Tea
-This 11 year business is recorded as the #1 tea shop in Toronto! House of Tea has a wide variety of tea from all around the world! 280 kinds all at your reach! Workers are interested in getting to know you, what you like now and what you might be interested later! House of Tea is waiting for you!
-This 11 year business is recorded as the #1 tea shop in Toronto! House of Tea has a wide variety of tea from all around the world! 280 kinds all at your reach! Workers are interested in getting to know you, what you like now and what you might be interested later! House of Tea is waiting for you!
2. Tealish
-If you are interested in modern tea boutique décor this is the shop for you! It’s cheerful, cozy and full of tea! Inside you’ll find 100+ varieties of loose leaf tea! Tealish is affordable for everyday people, come stop by and enjoy!
-If you are interested in modern tea boutique décor this is the shop for you! It’s cheerful, cozy and full of tea! Inside you’ll find 100+ varieties of loose leaf tea! Tealish is affordable for everyday people, come stop by and enjoy!
3. Say Tea
-Around the west end and midtown of Toronto? Why not take a visit at Say Tea! They are entering their 28th year of business! It’s said to be a bit like going to someone’s Nanna’s house. Not only do they have tea but they sell traditional nibbles to go with your brew!
-Around the west end and midtown of Toronto? Why not take a visit at Say Tea! They are entering their 28th year of business! It’s said to be a bit like going to someone’s Nanna’s house. Not only do they have tea but they sell traditional nibbles to go with your brew!
New obsession?
If you don’t have one I highly recommend its purchase! There brewing systems range from $100-200! Great tea made right from home.
Check out their website!
These are my top 5 kinds of tea made with the Keurig!
1. Pomegranate Green Tea
2. Earl Grey Tea
3. Peppermint Tea
4. Lemon Blueberry Passion Tea
5. Orange Indulgence White Tea
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
New assignment!
My theme for my media and journalism blogging assignment is: The Tea Adventure
Through my posts I am going to be exploring the community of tea. Random right? I'll give you word on new products, how tea can help your health, news about tea...and much more!
Enjoy!
Through my posts I am going to be exploring the community of tea. Random right? I'll give you word on new products, how tea can help your health, news about tea...and much more!
Enjoy!
Thursday, April 12, 2012
SLAM POEM
Definition of life?
Life
apparently has a definition
Do I agree? Absolutely not
Apparently life
Is the live existence
Or period of existence
Of an individual
I see that there is no definition
Some may not agree
How can it be?
That someone could accomplish the entire definition of life?
We all live in different places
Different countries
Or even continents
Even live in different environments
Artic, Desert, Rainforest
We each live differently than one another
Our view is altered by where we are from
Life at no time is everyone in the world seeing
The exact same things
Life shouldn’t have a definition
Some may be athletic
Maybe even artistic
Some musical
Even comical
One may set goals athletically to beat a time
Or finish a large piece of art
Write a beautiful piece of music for a loved one
Even nail a stand-up comedy act
All in their lifetime
They each see the world differently
Through the eyes of their talents
Creating their own personalized definition of life
Do I agree? Absolutely not
Apparently life
Is the live existence
Or period of existence
Of an individual
I see that there is no definition
Some may not agree
How can it be?
That someone could accomplish the entire definition of life?
We all live in different places
Different countries
Or even continents
Even live in different environments
Artic, Desert, Rainforest
We each live differently than one another
Our view is altered by where we are from
Life at no time is everyone in the world seeing
The exact same things
Life shouldn’t have a definition
Some may be athletic
Maybe even artistic
Some musical
Even comical
One may set goals athletically to beat a time
Or finish a large piece of art
Write a beautiful piece of music for a loved one
Even nail a stand-up comedy act
All in their lifetime
They each see the world differently
Through the eyes of their talents
Creating their own personalized definition of life
Personalization
is the main ingredient to life
It’s a recipe
Not one recipe will be the same
Each will have different ingredients
Even different amounts of this and that
Which are then added to the definition of life
Personalizing each definition to the individual
It’s a recipe
Not one recipe will be the same
Each will have different ingredients
Even different amounts of this and that
Which are then added to the definition of life
Personalizing each definition to the individual
The bottom
line
Is that we are all different
We all have different intentions
Purposes, aims, goals and objectives
Making no right answer for the definition
Personalization is how we answer the question
Not one person should do it for you
It is your question to answer
No one else’s
Life is not one definition
But is diverse throughout the numerous individuals
Life can have no exact definition
That is just how it works
Is that we are all different
We all have different intentions
Purposes, aims, goals and objectives
Making no right answer for the definition
Personalization is how we answer the question
Not one person should do it for you
It is your question to answer
No one else’s
Life is not one definition
But is diverse throughout the numerous individuals
Life can have no exact definition
That is just how it works
Short slam I did for fun!
-Ninth Grade-
Here come the school dances
Boys holding awkward stances
Must be from all the glances
They keep passing up the chances
To dive into romances
First day getting your timetable
Trying to find their classes but they are unable
Trying out for every team
Getting cut and ruining their self-esteem
So this is what I see
From high above the tree
Life of a grade nine
Is hard to realign
My advice to you
Is to not undo
You identity
Or your ability
To only stay the same
And grow without the aim
Of some superficial fame
You can just tell
that they’re in grade nine
It’s written all over their faces
They don’t fill in the spaces
They just stand in the middle of places
They see older kids out in the sections
And begin to make a reflection
Smoking cigz through their braces
Still can’t do up their laces
At lunch
When they start to munch
They forget their manners
And begin to throw their bananers
Causing a ruckus
Hum… maybe his name’s Markus
A grade nine night
outIt’s written all over their faces
They don’t fill in the spaces
They just stand in the middle of places
They see older kids out in the sections
And begin to make a reflection
Smoking cigz through their braces
Still can’t do up their laces
At lunch
When they start to munch
They forget their manners
And begin to throw their bananers
Causing a ruckus
Hum… maybe his name’s Markus
Here come the school dances
Boys holding awkward stances
Must be from all the glances
They keep passing up the chances
To dive into romances
First day getting your timetable
Trying to find their classes but they are unable
Trying out for every team
Getting cut and ruining their self-esteem
So this is what I see
From high above the tree
Life of a grade nine
Is hard to realign
My advice to you
Is to not undo
You identity
Or your ability
To only stay the same
And grow without the aim
Of some superficial fame
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Description Assignment
-Rugby
Game-
Its mid-afternoon and the sun’s rays are breaking through the white puffy clouds. Birds are crossing overhead and chirping to a casual tune. Neighbours in the surrounding area are walking by with their animals along the sidewalk. As they walk sand fly’s from beneath their feet and takes its place once again back on the pathway. The grass is almost dry from the mornings dew, grass is bright green and ready for the game to begin. This pitch across from the school and in the middle of a local neighbourhood is ready, lines painted and markers have been put into place.
Its mid-afternoon and the sun’s rays are breaking through the white puffy clouds. Birds are crossing overhead and chirping to a casual tune. Neighbours in the surrounding area are walking by with their animals along the sidewalk. As they walk sand fly’s from beneath their feet and takes its place once again back on the pathway. The grass is almost dry from the mornings dew, grass is bright green and ready for the game to begin. This pitch across from the school and in the middle of a local neighbourhood is ready, lines painted and markers have been put into place.
Today is game day, for both the home team
and the visitor’s team. Both of the teams are ready for the fight and battle to
bring home the win. Victory is their main goal, a goal which has been put into
place ever since they stepped on the edge of the pitch. The players together in
their teams practice and warm up before the game begins. Along the sideline their
nerves begin to settle as they go through the drills which their coaches have
set up. Step by step through the pylons the players push themselves to the next
step, their abilities growing as they practice; each time takes them one step
closer to greatness. They push through the warm-up and practice in preparation for
the big game. The referee’s call the captain’s to the center of the pitch to
speak about the regulations and to have a coin toss to determine who has first possession
of the ball. The referee’s dressed in black and white, stripes appearing in a
pattern on his shirt; whistle attached by a string around his neck, long socks on
his legs and a pair of boots on his feet. The rest of the players are called to
the pitch to ensure that each player has appropriate equipment to guarantee the
safety of others. All in a line on opposite sides of the pitch the coaches give
the lineups for the game and speak about the expectations for the game. As the
coaches leave the pitch the players scatter into their positions. The game
begins with a kick and the players begin to play, fifteen players working together
as one team. As the thirty players fight to bring home the victory each team strategizes
and makes a plan to gain points on the other team. Both teams dive into the
other team’s try zone multiplying the points on the scoreboard. Try after try
the game begins to heat up. Each of the players are tense and begin to work
harder towards the end of the game. The players push the ball out to the winger
who proceeds to run up the field towards the try zone, the opposing team doing
what they can to stop them from succeeding. As the last few minutes pass by on
the clock each teach puts all they have into those last minutes. Running faster,
rucking harder, passing faster and pushing harder to win the victory. At the
end of the game the players shake hands and mumble “good game” to the opposing
players. No harsh feelings are felt towards the winning team; it is a game of
heart not of hate.
As the players leave the pitch it begins to
become empty. Only the posts remain on the pitch, the cool breeze and the
memories of the game with just took place. Now, the pitch waits for another
day, a new game, of rugby.
Pitch= Rugby Field, Boots= Cleats, Try= Touchdown/Point Scored, Try Zone= End Zone
Pitch= Rugby Field, Boots= Cleats, Try= Touchdown/Point Scored, Try Zone= End Zone
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Journal #18
I found this in my binder, forgot to type it out and post it!
-Limerick Poem-
I once was on my way out
But than someone started to shout
I ran back inside
And too my surprise
I didn't know what the shouting was about
-Limerick Poem-
I once was on my way out
But than someone started to shout
I ran back inside
And too my surprise
I didn't know what the shouting was about
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Journal #17
-The Hollow Men-
(One Paragraph reader response)
Today in class we watched THE HOLLOW MEN being recited to us. It didn't really appeal to me. I found it kind of boring. Mainly because I didn't know what they were talking about. Also, the man reciting the poem didn't seem like the type to be on video. He didn't draw me into the poem to get me attached and interested about the poem. The Hollow Men seems to be very deep in meaning and seems too have great details.
(One Paragraph reader response)
Today in class we watched THE HOLLOW MEN being recited to us. It didn't really appeal to me. I found it kind of boring. Mainly because I didn't know what they were talking about. Also, the man reciting the poem didn't seem like the type to be on video. He didn't draw me into the poem to get me attached and interested about the poem. The Hollow Men seems to be very deep in meaning and seems too have great details.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Journal #16
-Villanelle-
What is a Villanelle?
A Villanelle is a type of poem that entered poetry in the 19th century. The villanelle has 19 lines, 5 stanzas of three lines and 1 stanza of four lines with two rhymes and two refrains. The 1st, then the 3rd lines alternate as the last lines of stanzas 2,3,and 4, and then stanza 5 (the end) as a couplet.
Structure:
line 1 - a - 1st refrain
line 2 - b
line 3 - a - 2nd refrain
line 4 - a
line 5 - b
line 6 - a - 1st refrain (same as line 1)
line 7 - a
line 8 - b
line 9 - a - 2nd refrain (same as line 2)
line 10 - a
line 11 - b
line 12 - a - 1st refrain (same as line 1)
line 13 - a
line 14 - b
line 15 - a - 2nd refrain (same as line 2)
line 16 - a
line 17 - b
line 18 - a - 1st refrain (same as line 1)
line 19 - a - 2nd refrain (same as line 2)
Example
Musical and sweet, the villanelle,
like light reflected in a gentle rhyme,
moves to the ringing of a silver bell,
Its form creating soft and tender spells.
Like the singing of distant silver chimes,
musical and sweet, the villanelle
Flows through the heart, and builds a magic spell
from sunlight and from shadows, and, sublime,
moves to the ringing of a silver bell.
It never arcs into the sharp loud yell
of vast pipe organs. Soft its climb.
Musical and sweet, the villanelle,
Like a tiny and translucent shell
catching sunlight in the summer time,
moves to the ringing of a silver bell.
Soft and gentle, tender and so frail,
like light pouring through petals of the lime,
musical and sweet, the villanelle
moves to the ringing of a silver bell.
Sondra Ball
(Poem title unknown)
______________________________________
My attempt at a Villanelle...
It is the day
It is the day
To the beginning of the rest of my life
The beginning to the choices and decisions I will make
Its forming like a storm in the desert
So rapidly and fast moving
It is the day
These decisions will have impact on my life
It will tell me where I am to go
To the beginning of the rest of my life
Suddenly everything is in my hands
Not of others, simply all mine
It is the day
It is my opportunity to change my life
For what I would like it to be
To the beginning of the rest of my life
It is my time to have control
Of where I will be taking myself in life
It is the day
To the beginning of the rest of my life
What is a Villanelle?
A Villanelle is a type of poem that entered poetry in the 19th century. The villanelle has 19 lines, 5 stanzas of three lines and 1 stanza of four lines with two rhymes and two refrains. The 1st, then the 3rd lines alternate as the last lines of stanzas 2,3,and 4, and then stanza 5 (the end) as a couplet.
Structure:
line 1 - a - 1st refrain
line 2 - b
line 3 - a - 2nd refrain
line 4 - a
line 5 - b
line 6 - a - 1st refrain (same as line 1)
line 7 - a
line 8 - b
line 9 - a - 2nd refrain (same as line 2)
line 10 - a
line 11 - b
line 12 - a - 1st refrain (same as line 1)
line 13 - a
line 14 - b
line 15 - a - 2nd refrain (same as line 2)
line 16 - a
line 17 - b
line 18 - a - 1st refrain (same as line 1)
line 19 - a - 2nd refrain (same as line 2)
Example
Musical and sweet, the villanelle,
like light reflected in a gentle rhyme,
moves to the ringing of a silver bell,
Its form creating soft and tender spells.
Like the singing of distant silver chimes,
musical and sweet, the villanelle
Flows through the heart, and builds a magic spell
from sunlight and from shadows, and, sublime,
moves to the ringing of a silver bell.
It never arcs into the sharp loud yell
of vast pipe organs. Soft its climb.
Musical and sweet, the villanelle,
Like a tiny and translucent shell
catching sunlight in the summer time,
moves to the ringing of a silver bell.
Soft and gentle, tender and so frail,
like light pouring through petals of the lime,
musical and sweet, the villanelle
moves to the ringing of a silver bell.
Sondra Ball
(Poem title unknown)
______________________________________
My attempt at a Villanelle...
It is the day
To the beginning of the rest of my life
The beginning to the choices and decisions I will make
Its forming like a storm in the desert
So rapidly and fast moving
It is the day
These decisions will have impact on my life
It will tell me where I am to go
To the beginning of the rest of my life
Suddenly everything is in my hands
Not of others, simply all mine
It is the day
It is my opportunity to change my life
For what I would like it to be
To the beginning of the rest of my life
It is my time to have control
Of where I will be taking myself in life
It is the day
To the beginning of the rest of my life
Monday, March 26, 2012
Journal #15
-"WHAT IS" Poem-
Childhood
It is the first step
The beginning
The start
To the rest of your life
Filled with constant adventure
A time of learning
Mistakes are made
But only to be learned from
It is a time to enjoy
Since only done once
It is hard to forget
Childhood
It is the first step
The beginning
The start
To the rest of your life
Filled with constant adventure
A time of learning
Mistakes are made
But only to be learned from
It is a time to enjoy
Since only done once
It is hard to forget
The memories stay to be remembered
This is childhood
This is childhood
Not the greatest, but hey I tried!
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Three Found Poems
For my poems I choose them using a common theme, Paris. I choose this theme because I would love to travel to Paris, France one day in my lifetime. By choosing the poems it gives me descriptions and outlooks on what Paris would be like and make me feel as though I am much closer than I actually am to being there.
Links:
Poem: http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/paris-in-spring/
Picture: http://www.shutterstock.com/pic-49751293/stock-photo-spring-in-paris-bloomy-cherry-tree-and-the-eiffel-tower-focus-on-flowers.html
Sara Teasdale is a well known American Poet. I became aware of this poem by searching the internet and coming across Poem Hunter. Her poem was among many but stood out to me because of its theme, Paris. I like the strong descriptions and how she uses old english due to its early publication. Since finding her poem I have become to respect and admire her words.
This poem is describing spring time in Paris. Wind is blowing, rain drops still clinging, and leaves are growing green. Sara gives great descriptions of spring time in Paris. She illustrates using words to describe the appearance and weather in Paris at the time. She captures you and causes you to create your own picture through with her deep descriptions.
__________
2.
Paris I adorent
Links:
Poem: http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/paris-i-adorent/
Picture: Google Images
The poem "Paris I adorent" is very interesting. Peter LeBuhn uses both English and French as the language in the stanza's. Paris is a very historic city and by his words it proves this.
"France, her mystery
Her history
Around each corner
A story unfolds"
In the city around each corner stories unfold from centuries of events. This is one of the main reasons why I would like to visit the city. This history fasinates me. I would love to explore the history in the city and be apart of the culture. There beautiful structure, Tour Eiffel, would be a dream to see both during the day and at night.
I like how Peter LeBuhn talks about all the history that is filled in the city, all the exploring to be done and the elaborateness of the Eiffel Tower.
__________
3.
A Trip to Paris
To enjoy a day Paris
Must be like an eternity in the clouds
One day I hope to my girl there, my little heirs
Go to the Tower, just shout “I love Paris” aloud
Although this maybe my first time here
I feel like I’m home, like I know this country
I know there are some dark places and alleys but I have yet to support fear
This is such a beautiful place, I’m glad it accepts me
As the sun goes down the night skies fill with promise
The stars are no help as the rays from their brightness illuminates the eyes of the river ways
Everything about this land seems too good to be true, she’s just so honest
Set up the way she wants to be makes me so happy I can’t see myself leaving this place.
A Tribute to Paris
Links:
Poem: http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-trip-to-paris/
Picture: Google Images
I choose this poem because I feel a connection through the words "Although this maybe my first time here I feel like I’m home, like I know this country". I have many friends and family which live in France, some even in the city of Paris. Although it would be my first time in Paris I wouldn't feel as lonely and lost as I would be if I didn't have the family and friends there. I would have a sense of "home" with them being there.
I enjoy this poem by Boonk Jackson. He describes Paris as a beautiful place, the brightness illuminates the river ways and he can't see himself leaving Paris.
I have to agree with him with not wanting to leave. There is so much information and history in Paris that you wouldn't be able to leave without seeing it all. Constant museum's and tourist attractions, you'd be busy for days!
Great poem!
1.
Paris in Spring
The city's all a-shining
Beneath a fickle sun,
A gay young wind's a-blowing,
The little shower is done.
But the rain-drops still are clinging
And falling one by one --
Oh it's Paris, it's Paris,
And spring-time has begun.
I know the Bois is twinkling
In a sort of hazy sheen,
And down the Champs the gray old arch
Stands cold and still between.
But the walk is flecked with sunlight
Where the great acacias lean,
Oh it's Paris, it's Paris,
And the leaves are growing green.
The sun's gone in, the sparkle's dead,
There falls a dash of rain,
But who would care when such an air
Comes blowing up the Seine?
And still Ninette sits sewing
Beside her window-pane,
When it's Paris, it's Paris,
And spring-time's come again.
Beneath a fickle sun,
A gay young wind's a-blowing,
The little shower is done.
But the rain-drops still are clinging
And falling one by one --
Oh it's Paris, it's Paris,
And spring-time has begun.
I know the Bois is twinkling
In a sort of hazy sheen,
And down the Champs the gray old arch
Stands cold and still between.
But the walk is flecked with sunlight
Where the great acacias lean,
Oh it's Paris, it's Paris,
And the leaves are growing green.
The sun's gone in, the sparkle's dead,
There falls a dash of rain,
But who would care when such an air
Comes blowing up the Seine?
And still Ninette sits sewing
Beside her window-pane,
When it's Paris, it's Paris,
And spring-time's come again.
Sara Teasdale
Links:
Poem: http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/paris-in-spring/
Picture: http://www.shutterstock.com/pic-49751293/stock-photo-spring-in-paris-bloomy-cherry-tree-and-the-eiffel-tower-focus-on-flowers.html
Sara Teasdale is a well known American Poet. I became aware of this poem by searching the internet and coming across Poem Hunter. Her poem was among many but stood out to me because of its theme, Paris. I like the strong descriptions and how she uses old english due to its early publication. Since finding her poem I have become to respect and admire her words.
This poem is describing spring time in Paris. Wind is blowing, rain drops still clinging, and leaves are growing green. Sara gives great descriptions of spring time in Paris. She illustrates using words to describe the appearance and weather in Paris at the time. She captures you and causes you to create your own picture through with her deep descriptions.
__________
2.
France, her mystery
Her history
Around each corner
A story unfolds
The quiteness of La Seine
The elaborateness of Le Tour Eiffel
Paris I adorent
As it is you I explore
We have developed rapport
En Paris ces't ma couer
En Paris ces't ma maison
One day we will meet again
One day we will meet again
Peter LeBuhn
Her history
Around each corner
A story unfolds
The quiteness of La Seine
The elaborateness of Le Tour Eiffel
Paris I adorent
As it is you I explore
We have developed rapport
En Paris ces't ma couer
En Paris ces't ma maison
One day we will meet again
One day we will meet again
Peter LeBuhn
Links:
Poem: http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/paris-i-adorent/
Picture: Google Images
The poem "Paris I adorent" is very interesting. Peter LeBuhn uses both English and French as the language in the stanza's. Paris is a very historic city and by his words it proves this.
"France, her mystery
Her history
Around each corner
A story unfolds"
In the city around each corner stories unfold from centuries of events. This is one of the main reasons why I would like to visit the city. This history fasinates me. I would love to explore the history in the city and be apart of the culture. There beautiful structure, Tour Eiffel, would be a dream to see both during the day and at night.
I like how Peter LeBuhn talks about all the history that is filled in the city, all the exploring to be done and the elaborateness of the Eiffel Tower.
__________
3.
A Trip to Paris
To enjoy a day Paris
Must be like an eternity in the clouds
One day I hope to my girl there, my little heirs
Go to the Tower, just shout “I love Paris” aloud
Although this maybe my first time here
I feel like I’m home, like I know this country
I know there are some dark places and alleys but I have yet to support fear
This is such a beautiful place, I’m glad it accepts me
As the sun goes down the night skies fill with promise
The stars are no help as the rays from their brightness illuminates the eyes of the river ways
Everything about this land seems too good to be true, she’s just so honest
Set up the way she wants to be makes me so happy I can’t see myself leaving this place.
A Tribute to Paris
Boonk Jackson
Links:
Poem: http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-trip-to-paris/
Picture: Google Images
I choose this poem because I feel a connection through the words "Although this maybe my first time here I feel like I’m home, like I know this country". I have many friends and family which live in France, some even in the city of Paris. Although it would be my first time in Paris I wouldn't feel as lonely and lost as I would be if I didn't have the family and friends there. I would have a sense of "home" with them being there.
I enjoy this poem by Boonk Jackson. He describes Paris as a beautiful place, the brightness illuminates the river ways and he can't see himself leaving Paris.
I have to agree with him with not wanting to leave. There is so much information and history in Paris that you wouldn't be able to leave without seeing it all. Constant museum's and tourist attractions, you'd be busy for days!
Great poem!
Journal #14
-Morning Haiku's-
1. The sun is shinning
Brighter then the eye can see
Beauty day in May
2. Running in the wind
Birds flying over myself
Morning sun shinning
3. Eyes open widely
Morning sun blinding
Days beginning soon
1. The sun is shinning
Brighter then the eye can see
Beauty day in May
2. Running in the wind
Birds flying over myself
Morning sun shinning
3. Eyes open widely
Morning sun blinding
Days beginning soon
Journal #13
-Protest Poem-
Dawn To Dark Night
They work
They fight
They hurt
Everyday from dawn to dark night
Pains and sores take
Crys and screams take
Happiness and family taken
Childhood taken
Fear fills the eyes
Of the young
The innocent
Little children
A nightmare
Far from a dream
A life unwanted
A life for no child
They work
They fight
They hurt
Everyday from dawn to dark night
Dawn To Dark Night
They work
They fight
They hurt
Everyday from dawn to dark night
Pains and sores take
Crys and screams take
Happiness and family taken
Childhood taken
Fear fills the eyes
Of the young
The innocent
Little children
A nightmare
Far from a dream
A life unwanted
A life for no child
They work
They fight
They hurt
Everyday from dawn to dark night
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Journal #12
-Attic, Ice Cream, Pants-
One afternoon, Sally and Joe were stuck inside due to the rain outside. They decided to adventure up into the attic to look around. Neither of them have ever been up their before. Together they go up the dusty stairs, and turn the handle on the door to the attic. Inside is black, except for the slight beam of light coming in from the window. They look around, some boxes here and there, a rocking chair and some old sports equipment. Everything seemed to be aged and outdated. Sally and Joe begin go through some of the boxes and start to find some interesting treasure. Sally finds a box of clothes, possibly some of her dads or grandpa's old thing, and puts on a pair of atrocious green pants. "Joe, Joe, check these out!" said Sally. Joe looks at Sally, sees her in those ugly pants and laughs so hard he falls down right into the rocking chair. "You look so silly" said Joe. "These pants are probably a million years old! They are huge and such a horrible shade of green! Yuck!" said Sally. The pants dragged on the floor collecting dust and whatever else was laying on the attic floor. Together, Sally and Joe, continue to look through the treasure in the attic. The afternoon is passing, and the rain is starting to dry up. Sally suggests to go outside to get some fresh air and to use some of the equipment they found in the attic. The outside is fresh, the smell of rain is strong and the puddles are slightly filled with water from the afternoon rain. Sally and Joe play in the drive way with their treasure that they found and enjoy the rest of the afternoon. The local ice cream truck goes by and the two friends get a treat to end their day of fun.
One afternoon, Sally and Joe were stuck inside due to the rain outside. They decided to adventure up into the attic to look around. Neither of them have ever been up their before. Together they go up the dusty stairs, and turn the handle on the door to the attic. Inside is black, except for the slight beam of light coming in from the window. They look around, some boxes here and there, a rocking chair and some old sports equipment. Everything seemed to be aged and outdated. Sally and Joe begin go through some of the boxes and start to find some interesting treasure. Sally finds a box of clothes, possibly some of her dads or grandpa's old thing, and puts on a pair of atrocious green pants. "Joe, Joe, check these out!" said Sally. Joe looks at Sally, sees her in those ugly pants and laughs so hard he falls down right into the rocking chair. "You look so silly" said Joe. "These pants are probably a million years old! They are huge and such a horrible shade of green! Yuck!" said Sally. The pants dragged on the floor collecting dust and whatever else was laying on the attic floor. Together, Sally and Joe, continue to look through the treasure in the attic. The afternoon is passing, and the rain is starting to dry up. Sally suggests to go outside to get some fresh air and to use some of the equipment they found in the attic. The outside is fresh, the smell of rain is strong and the puddles are slightly filled with water from the afternoon rain. Sally and Joe play in the drive way with their treasure that they found and enjoy the rest of the afternoon. The local ice cream truck goes by and the two friends get a treat to end their day of fun.
Monday, March 5, 2012
Journal #11
-2 themes in "Of Mice and Men", LONELINESS & DREAMS-
Loneliness: Many characters in "Of Mice and Men" admit to loneliness. George has confessions of loneliness early in the novel. George reminds Lennie that the life on the ranch is among the loneliest of lives. Other characters in the novel Candy, Curley's wife and Crooks all confess their loneliness. Candy is lonely because he is physically handicapped and cannot do that same things that other men do on the ranch. Crooks appears lonely in the novel due to the colour of his skin, he is singled out from the others and is put in a seperate bunk. Each of the characters have no friends to interact with and they have to interact and express their loneliness with strangers. In this book there are many reasons as to why the characters are lonely, each character posses characteristics which everyday people can relate too.
Dreams: The characters in the novel at some point express their dream of a different life. In the novel Curley's wife confesses her dream to be a movie star, Crooks has a dream of hoeing a patch of garden on Lennie's farm one day, and George's dream is of owning a couple acres. Each character in the book had their own set of dreams but none of them actually come true.
Loneliness: Many characters in "Of Mice and Men" admit to loneliness. George has confessions of loneliness early in the novel. George reminds Lennie that the life on the ranch is among the loneliest of lives. Other characters in the novel Candy, Curley's wife and Crooks all confess their loneliness. Candy is lonely because he is physically handicapped and cannot do that same things that other men do on the ranch. Crooks appears lonely in the novel due to the colour of his skin, he is singled out from the others and is put in a seperate bunk. Each of the characters have no friends to interact with and they have to interact and express their loneliness with strangers. In this book there are many reasons as to why the characters are lonely, each character posses characteristics which everyday people can relate too.
Dreams: The characters in the novel at some point express their dream of a different life. In the novel Curley's wife confesses her dream to be a movie star, Crooks has a dream of hoeing a patch of garden on Lennie's farm one day, and George's dream is of owning a couple acres. Each character in the book had their own set of dreams but none of them actually come true.
Friday, March 2, 2012
Journal #10
-A strange day in July.."He threw with all his might, but the third stone came skipping back"..-
The water did not move, not a ripple in the water. Silence acorss the entire lake. How is it that it came back to the boy? He threw the stone with all his might, but somehow it came directly back at him. The boy walked towards his beach house, a beautiful lanscape surrounding the house, flowers and toys scattered around the front lawn. He sat on a rock outside of the beach house, to ponder what has just occured. He sits, sky is blue and the sun is the brightest of the day. He sits and thinks of all the possible reasons this could of occured. Maybe the wind was strong, and it just came straight to me? The boy relaizes that it was indeed windy, but not windy enough to carry a rock. The boy looks frustrated and incredibly puzzled. He walks towards the water, strips his clothing and sets it on the sandy beach. He stands, naked, mid-day, on the shore of the lake. He watches the water, a ripple begins to form. A tall flops out of the water, beautiful purple and blue designs. He runs in the water, goes under, opens his green eyes and see's nothing. Dissapointment crosses the boys face. The boy thinks he has frightned this creature, and decides to wait and see if it will appear again. Tredding water, deep in the lake, water just warm enough to be comfortable. He looks into the distance, sun beams on his face, he see's nothing but the boats in the distance. The boys gives up and proceeds back to the shore. Sits down in the sand beside his clothing and watches the water. Eyes not blinking, just waiting to discover what has caused his rock he threw to come skipping back.
The water did not move, not a ripple in the water. Silence acorss the entire lake. How is it that it came back to the boy? He threw the stone with all his might, but somehow it came directly back at him. The boy walked towards his beach house, a beautiful lanscape surrounding the house, flowers and toys scattered around the front lawn. He sat on a rock outside of the beach house, to ponder what has just occured. He sits, sky is blue and the sun is the brightest of the day. He sits and thinks of all the possible reasons this could of occured. Maybe the wind was strong, and it just came straight to me? The boy relaizes that it was indeed windy, but not windy enough to carry a rock. The boy looks frustrated and incredibly puzzled. He walks towards the water, strips his clothing and sets it on the sandy beach. He stands, naked, mid-day, on the shore of the lake. He watches the water, a ripple begins to form. A tall flops out of the water, beautiful purple and blue designs. He runs in the water, goes under, opens his green eyes and see's nothing. Dissapointment crosses the boys face. The boy thinks he has frightned this creature, and decides to wait and see if it will appear again. Tredding water, deep in the lake, water just warm enough to be comfortable. He looks into the distance, sun beams on his face, he see's nothing but the boats in the distance. The boys gives up and proceeds back to the shore. Sits down in the sand beside his clothing and watches the water. Eyes not blinking, just waiting to discover what has caused his rock he threw to come skipping back.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Journal #9
-Story starter.. "It was a dark and stormy night"...-
It was a dark and stormy night, there are no cars on the road, people walking around the neighbourhood, or children playing in the park. The neighbourhood looks empty, every still in its place, except for the tire swinging with the wind. The creaking sound of the chain as it sways in the wind. It is pouring rain, everything is soaking wet. Water dripping from the steel playground. I am soaked,. Coat is dripping water like it does when water is coming off the rooftop. It is dark but there is little light coming from the street lamps close by. The storm has been going on since the early morning, it is now almost midnight. The ditches, potholes and sandbox are filled with water. The air is cold, with a slight wind, making the night very cool. I walk to the bus stop across from the playground to grab shelter. Inside their is a cat, shivering and shaking, due to the cold weather. I sit on the bench inside the bus stop, carefully grabbing the cat to hold it to keep it warm. It looks familiar, I think it is my neighbours, I cuddle the cat and it seems to recognize me. It begins to stop shaking and we both begin to dry off from the storm. I walk towards my home, grab a box and blanket, and place it in the garage. For tonight the cat will stay in the garage to keep warm and inside from the storm. He will return to my neighbours in the morning. In the morning the sun is bright and the birds are chirping. The sun dries up the water from the storm and everything begins to shine. The children begin to play in the park, for another day, swinging and slidding in the playground.
It was a dark and stormy night, there are no cars on the road, people walking around the neighbourhood, or children playing in the park. The neighbourhood looks empty, every still in its place, except for the tire swinging with the wind. The creaking sound of the chain as it sways in the wind. It is pouring rain, everything is soaking wet. Water dripping from the steel playground. I am soaked,. Coat is dripping water like it does when water is coming off the rooftop. It is dark but there is little light coming from the street lamps close by. The storm has been going on since the early morning, it is now almost midnight. The ditches, potholes and sandbox are filled with water. The air is cold, with a slight wind, making the night very cool. I walk to the bus stop across from the playground to grab shelter. Inside their is a cat, shivering and shaking, due to the cold weather. I sit on the bench inside the bus stop, carefully grabbing the cat to hold it to keep it warm. It looks familiar, I think it is my neighbours, I cuddle the cat and it seems to recognize me. It begins to stop shaking and we both begin to dry off from the storm. I walk towards my home, grab a box and blanket, and place it in the garage. For tonight the cat will stay in the garage to keep warm and inside from the storm. He will return to my neighbours in the morning. In the morning the sun is bright and the birds are chirping. The sun dries up the water from the storm and everything begins to shine. The children begin to play in the park, for another day, swinging and slidding in the playground.
Journal #8
-Reflection, thoughts, ideas, about the course as far-
So far, although only a few days into the course, I really like it! I enjoy the activities, journals and stories that we are writing in class. Free style writing gets me to use my imagination which I prefer over writing comparison essays between two books. Although I do like regular English class in high school I feel that I am very restricted with my writing. This is my first time having you as my teacher; I’m happy about that, always hear good feedback from other teachers and students! I have always wanted to be in a class where I am able to write my own ideas and thoughts; this gives me that opportunity to do just that. It is great! I’m looking forward to the rest of the semester!
So far, although only a few days into the course, I really like it! I enjoy the activities, journals and stories that we are writing in class. Free style writing gets me to use my imagination which I prefer over writing comparison essays between two books. Although I do like regular English class in high school I feel that I am very restricted with my writing. This is my first time having you as my teacher; I’m happy about that, always hear good feedback from other teachers and students! I have always wanted to be in a class where I am able to write my own ideas and thoughts; this gives me that opportunity to do just that. It is great! I’m looking forward to the rest of the semester!
Journal #7
a)
Words that make me feel good:
Smile
90210
Friendship
Love
Music
Sleep
Ice cream Sundays
Family
Sunday Dinners
Brother
b)
Description of the sounds I heard as I woke up this morning:
My alarm clock music going off from my iwake
My feet taping the hardwood floor as I get upWords that make me feel good:
Smile
90210
Friendship
Love
Music
Sleep
Ice cream Sundays
Family
Sunday Dinners
Brother
b)
Description of the sounds I heard as I woke up this morning:
My alarm clock music going off from my iwake
My door opening
The water from the showering pouring on the bottom of the shower
The water hitting the floor as I get out
The blow dryer as I dry my hair
My toast popping from the toaster
My electric tooth brush cleaning my teeth
My jacket zipping up as I leave
The car opening and the engine starting as I begin my journey to school
The car turning off and the door closing as I make my way inside the school
The door closing as I am inside, feet shuffling as we all go to first period class
Journal #6
-Paradoxical Commandment-
“People are illogical, unreasonable and self-centred; love them anyway”. I have to agree with this statement. Some people in the world are illogical, unreasonable and self-centered. Its apart of life. It can not be changed or else we would not be true. Not every individual is all three of these characteristics, but each may show in different ways a component of the characteristics. Depending on the way you were raised as a young child you may be more like, or farther from the characteristics of illogical, unreasonable and self-centred. I was taught to be reasonable and not to focus everything on myself, although sometimes I can show characteristics of being unreasonable and self-centered. My parents told me not to judge people on their flaws and to love them anyway. This supports this paradoxical commandment. Flaws can bring out things in people which you begin to admire and respect. Not everyone is perfect, we all have flaws, but those flaws are apart of whom we are. We do not all have the same flaws, that is why each individual is different. We are to find love in them and accept them for what they are.
Journal #5
-Description of Park Street 25 years from now, abandoned-
I walked slowly down the paved sidewalk surrounding what was previously a high school. It was the high school that I attended many years ago. I went here for my entire four years of high school. I can remember my first day, nervous, for once to go to school. No longer a little elementary school kid. This was my first moment at this school. My last is when all the exams were done, just a few days after it was our commencement ceremony. Everyone which I spent my fours years with, students, teachers and coaches, were all gathered to celebrate us leaving and beginning our new lives. Tears and smiles fill the entire gymnasium. I look at the school now, abandoned, nothing but the grass on the football field, dried and torn up, rusted soccer posts still standing and random broken windows on the doors around the school. I can see the student parking lot, pot holes bigger than they ever were. Skid marks in the parking lot from people attempting dangerous manoeuvres. It is so strange to see no one here but the birds and animals that live in the area. Usually it would be filled with students during the week, and filled on the weekends for indoor or outdoor sports tournaments. The picnic tables that were at the side of the school, are done, disappeared in time, I guess. The shed beside the field has been torn down, nothing is there but the outline of where it once was. Although the school is still standing there is no since of anyone or anything. It is abandoned, forever deserted, with only memories to fill the inside of the school hallways.
I walked slowly down the paved sidewalk surrounding what was previously a high school. It was the high school that I attended many years ago. I went here for my entire four years of high school. I can remember my first day, nervous, for once to go to school. No longer a little elementary school kid. This was my first moment at this school. My last is when all the exams were done, just a few days after it was our commencement ceremony. Everyone which I spent my fours years with, students, teachers and coaches, were all gathered to celebrate us leaving and beginning our new lives. Tears and smiles fill the entire gymnasium. I look at the school now, abandoned, nothing but the grass on the football field, dried and torn up, rusted soccer posts still standing and random broken windows on the doors around the school. I can see the student parking lot, pot holes bigger than they ever were. Skid marks in the parking lot from people attempting dangerous manoeuvres. It is so strange to see no one here but the birds and animals that live in the area. Usually it would be filled with students during the week, and filled on the weekends for indoor or outdoor sports tournaments. The picnic tables that were at the side of the school, are done, disappeared in time, I guess. The shed beside the field has been torn down, nothing is there but the outline of where it once was. Although the school is still standing there is no since of anyone or anything. It is abandoned, forever deserted, with only memories to fill the inside of the school hallways.
Journal #4
-Description of a nature walk-
It is morning and the sun is shinning on the beautiful open fresh water. The morning is calm, only a few people out at this time. The lake is not moving, only the sounds of the birds in the tree’s. Random tree branches move as the squirrels move around from tree to tree in search of their fellow pals. I am walking down the gravel path beside the lake. In the distance I can see birds landing on the island close to the shore. There are many of them, a family; they probably have a nest near by. The smell is so fresh this early in the morning; it feels nice to get out of the city for a little while to enjoy a nature walk. Near the island there is a fisherman in his boat, fishing rod at hand, enjoying his early morning fishing session. His buddy is behind him dealing with their early morning catch. There is a beautiful garden close to me, pretty flowers arranged in a circular shape around a statue. The grass surrounding me is damp from the morning dew. It seems that the grass had been cut the day before and the cut pieces are scattered amongst the lawn. The smell of the freshly cut grass smells so pure and refreshing. The wet grass sticks to my dog’s feet as we walk along the gravel path. My dog is at my side, pulling at her leash to try to catch the squirrels in the trees. Although I doubt she is fast enough to even catch them, or even get close enough in reach. I walk towards the shore, sand in my toes; I remove my sandals and dip my feet into the lake. The water’s cool but is also refreshing. Mother nature has created such beautiful surroundings for our world, I have become to appreciate them more as I explore by the lake this morning.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Journal #3
-Description of a homeless man-
He is sitting on a bench in a park. A neighbourhood surrounds him, houses upon houses are scattered. Big and small, some with and some without pools, several with tree houses and porches to enjoy their backyards. He is alone. Just himself, wearing a long sleeve, pants, jacket and boots. His backpack is beneath his feet, containing his few belongings. Pictures of his childhood and family he once had, the memories compacted in the fabric bag that is still damp from the afternoon rain. Not much is inside, as it is too hard to bring along with him from place to place. Strapped to the top of the backpack is a blanket to keep him warm at night. He moves his foot and hits his bag, you hear a clank, and it is the sound of his foot hitting the mug inside his backpack. As night approaches the lights turn out, he settles for the night in the playground, inside the slide, just in case it rains during his sleep. He is not seen, just his boots sticking out of the end of the slide. Morning comes, and the dew on the grass is wet. He wakes and ponders on what he will do today. Today his search is for a meal and water, hoping that it will get him through the next few days.
He is sitting on a bench in a park. A neighbourhood surrounds him, houses upon houses are scattered. Big and small, some with and some without pools, several with tree houses and porches to enjoy their backyards. He is alone. Just himself, wearing a long sleeve, pants, jacket and boots. His backpack is beneath his feet, containing his few belongings. Pictures of his childhood and family he once had, the memories compacted in the fabric bag that is still damp from the afternoon rain. Not much is inside, as it is too hard to bring along with him from place to place. Strapped to the top of the backpack is a blanket to keep him warm at night. He moves his foot and hits his bag, you hear a clank, and it is the sound of his foot hitting the mug inside his backpack. As night approaches the lights turn out, he settles for the night in the playground, inside the slide, just in case it rains during his sleep. He is not seen, just his boots sticking out of the end of the slide. Morning comes, and the dew on the grass is wet. He wakes and ponders on what he will do today. Today his search is for a meal and water, hoping that it will get him through the next few days.
Journal #2
-Description of a outdoor scene-
My backyard is so beautiful. Every season of the year shows different aspects which make it beautiful. In the spring everything is fresh. Plants and flowers are blooming as the thawing of the ground is occurring. I can see my dog running around finding all her toys that she lost when the snow in the winter fell and hid them all. Excitement is drawn all over her face. Summer approaches and the grass needs to be cut. The smell of cut grass fills the afternoon air. Lines from the lawn mower appear on the grass with spots of cut grass along the lawn. The sprinkler is spraying to give water to the dry lawn, providing it with a more enriched colour. During the fall the leaves turn pretty colours as decorations to the landscape. Orange, yellow and brown all mixed together in piles throughout the yard. As spring approaches gradually we pile the leaves and throw them into piles. My dog enjoys running through the leaves as they are in the air, or when we hide her toys among the big piles. It becomes winter and the entire yard is now white, no sight of grass or the flowers and plants in the gardens. Big snowflakes fall from the sky. The tree branches are white, the fence is white and the deck is covered in layers of snow. Doggie paw prints are scattered throughout the yard as a trace of where she has been. The seasons each have characteristics which make my backyard beautiful, from the fresh plants and flowers blooming to the layers of pure white snow across the entire yard.
My backyard is so beautiful. Every season of the year shows different aspects which make it beautiful. In the spring everything is fresh. Plants and flowers are blooming as the thawing of the ground is occurring. I can see my dog running around finding all her toys that she lost when the snow in the winter fell and hid them all. Excitement is drawn all over her face. Summer approaches and the grass needs to be cut. The smell of cut grass fills the afternoon air. Lines from the lawn mower appear on the grass with spots of cut grass along the lawn. The sprinkler is spraying to give water to the dry lawn, providing it with a more enriched colour. During the fall the leaves turn pretty colours as decorations to the landscape. Orange, yellow and brown all mixed together in piles throughout the yard. As spring approaches gradually we pile the leaves and throw them into piles. My dog enjoys running through the leaves as they are in the air, or when we hide her toys among the big piles. It becomes winter and the entire yard is now white, no sight of grass or the flowers and plants in the gardens. Big snowflakes fall from the sky. The tree branches are white, the fence is white and the deck is covered in layers of snow. Doggie paw prints are scattered throughout the yard as a trace of where she has been. The seasons each have characteristics which make my backyard beautiful, from the fresh plants and flowers blooming to the layers of pure white snow across the entire yard.
Journal #1
-One Syllable Story-
My name is Pat and I am a fat rat. I have one blue eye and one green. My nose is red and will twitch when I smell cheese. I have four short legs that help me run from all the mean cats near my house. I am grey with one spot of black on my back. I have a long sleek tail that goes a wig and a wag as I walk. I live in a hole by a shop that makes bread. The smell is so good it drives me nuts. My pals and I go at night and eat the crumbs from the shop too add to our meal that day.
In the day I hang with my pals at the pub, go to the gym, or even go for a stroll in the city. I met a girl one day at the pub, her name is Sam. She is a nice girl; we like to hang out. My close pals agree that she is hot, and like her at our house by the shop. She is slim just like my bud Tim. She is smart and likes to have fun. When I first saw her it was love at first sight.
I like to sing and dance. I have a dream to be a star and show my gift to the world. I once knew a rat from down the way who is now a movie star. He is a big deal here; I want to be just like him. Except, I will sing and play music for my rat buds.
At the pub, Sam and I sang a song that we wrote one night. The crowd gave us a big clap at the end. When we took our walk off the stage, Sam gave me a peck on the lips. It made my whole night.
My name is Pat and I am a fat rat. I have one blue eye and one green. My nose is red and will twitch when I smell cheese. I have four short legs that help me run from all the mean cats near my house. I am grey with one spot of black on my back. I have a long sleek tail that goes a wig and a wag as I walk. I live in a hole by a shop that makes bread. The smell is so good it drives me nuts. My pals and I go at night and eat the crumbs from the shop too add to our meal that day.
In the day I hang with my pals at the pub, go to the gym, or even go for a stroll in the city. I met a girl one day at the pub, her name is Sam. She is a nice girl; we like to hang out. My close pals agree that she is hot, and like her at our house by the shop. She is slim just like my bud Tim. She is smart and likes to have fun. When I first saw her it was love at first sight.
I like to sing and dance. I have a dream to be a star and show my gift to the world. I once knew a rat from down the way who is now a movie star. He is a big deal here; I want to be just like him. Except, I will sing and play music for my rat buds.
At the pub, Sam and I sang a song that we wrote one night. The crowd gave us a big clap at the end. When we took our walk off the stage, Sam gave me a peck on the lips. It made my whole night.
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