My First Poetic Writing
Pushing aside the leaves of the forest door I wonder what’s going on behind the leafy curtains, bloods rushing through my veins as I head for the big old wonder oak. I have finished my jobs for the day and was now sitting under the glorious oak tree, reading my favourite book. All I can hear is the shrill sound of silence. Suddenly down jumps a squeaky squirrel its eyes as big and blue as the sky. I follow it wondering what it’s doing in its busy life. Amazingly I’m now wadding through the water at knee depth looking up at the squeaky squirrel. Down it drops an acorn on my head and I throw it back up into thin air. I’ve now lost the squirrel in my quest to follow it. Moments later I hear my parents calling me. I disappear back through the leafy curtains. All you hear is the shrill sound of silence again.
