I went to a very beautiful park over the summer. I hope you enjoy these!

I am in dire need of some muse for this unfinished story of mine! >.< Any ideas?

“Mistress Farrah.” A middle-aged servant bowed respectfully at the figure in front of her. “Your mother wishes to see you.”

The maiden straightened, and looked up from her books. “Very well, Leah. Thank you.” A gentle rustling of silk was heard as Farrah got up and gracefully swished out of the room, her steps quick and sure.

“The poor thing,” Leah murmured as soon as the girl disappeared down the hallway, “does she not know that taking care of her outer beauty is more important than filling the mind with useless information? How will she ever get married?” The servant clucked her tongue in sympathy before turning back to her work.

On the way to her mother's room, however, Farrah was not thinking of her future as a mistress, but of what her mother's present condition was. She knew her mother had not been very strong lately, so she had taken over her mother's usual duties of running the household.

It wasn't an easy task, far more difficult than she had ever imagine. Before, she had thought of her mother's work as simple, but know, she knew she had been wrong. There were the numerous flocks to be checked, the shopping for each meal, and sometimes, there were the sick servants to be taken care of.

Farrah absently touched the delicate gold chain that hung loosely about her neck. She had never liked wearing many fancy decorations, for she found them bothersome. Though she wears more jewelry at the big parties and celebrations, she prefers just a simple necklace or bracelet when she's at home. Again her mind turned towards her mother.

Why does my mother want me? Is she sick or something? Does she have something she needs to tell me? Something important? The maiden nervously fingered the folds of her silk garment. She knew she was getting to be of age, and her father had already started looking for a good match for her. 

 

But I'm not ready yet! I still have so much to learn, and once I am married, I won't have the same kind of freedom as I now have. A determined look gleamed in her eyes as Farrah softly knocked on her mother's door.

NOTE: This is under copyright by me. So please do NOT steal!

Hi everyone! :) I'm Juliet and this is my first post on Blog for Joy, but hopefully I will be posting pretty frequently!
You can check out my blog, A Purple Sky, here! Thanks! :)
Here's a section of my novel-in-progress. I'll be posting more soon!

It’s not hard to imagine how you would feel if you lost the love of your life. In fact, people think about it all the time; the sadness, the anger. When it’s an awful accident, you’re meant to feel shocked. When it’s a long battle with cancer, you’re meant to feel frustrated.
            But I didn’t lose him because of a freak accident or cancer.
            It was his choice.
            This isn’t a story about how I lost my love, and my best friend. It’s a story about how he changed my life forever.

            That day is still as clear to me as the crystal blue ocean water that only exists in ads for Sandals, Jamaica. Even now as I sit here almost four years later, I remember every detail and every word that was spoken on that gruesome day.
            A shiver runs down my spine as I think about what happened, and, for the millionth time, what I could have done to stop it. My vision blurs as cool tears form in my eyes. I look down as one lands on my thigh, and then rolls off, leaving a trail on my leg. I close my eyes, trying to wish away the images in my head.
            There’s blood pouring out of him as I watch three men from the corner of my eye fade into the foggy darkness. I hear sirens and see flashing lights everywhere I look. That’s always the moment when everything becomes clear, when I remember what’s about to happen.

And please remember, no plagiarism! Thanks!

The cupcake sat down on the cold oven stove,
And wondered about what the donkey had told,
'Don't count your chickens before they hatch',
As the baker baked up another batch,
But if you're not allowed to count what's not there,
Then how on Earth is that possibly fair,
If once you've made a decent cake,
(All sugar and icing and chocolate at stake),
Then the cake not eaten is actually wrong..
So don't count your cupcakes before they've all gone.

Whaddya think?

A<3

awkwarddonkey.blogspot.co.uk

I made this neckalce completely out of buttons, and two pieces of twine. I used both four-holed and two-holed bttons, and tied knots to keep them in place. Do you notice the sparkly center piece?

Fansy and Fine

School Girl Geek

Rock it!

Nature Type

I could apologize a bunch of times, and write a post on something or other. But, truthfully, Blog for joy has had to sit on the backburner for the time being. Getting back into  routine for getting back into education, reaching 155 followers, and badly spraining my ankle (and our home computer breaking!) has meant now everything is a bit of a rush. But, don't fear. Today, I thought i'd write you the entry that I entered for 247 tales last month, and came runner up. I was so pleased, as it was the second month in a row that I came runner up, here it is.

The big fight was coming soon. The attack from the enemy camp. Of course it was. They'd wail and scream and build eachother up into a frenzy, gearing for battle. Our camp grew wild, everyone huddled together, trying to figure out our defence.

Nothing would be enough, though, not against them. We could dart and swerve and hide away, we could protect our elders, our friends and families. But eventually, eventually they would reach us. They had machinery beyond our wildest dreams, and against millions of us, it would only take one of them.

Rumbling, churning, ripping into life. Everyone hoped the day would never come, but the only survivor knew all too well, that it would. Stomping, loud, roaring like a fire, it would tear our community into shreds, leaving nothing but a few, lucky enough to survive.

Everyone feared it, feared them, but were grateful they weren't in the first ranks. Elders, young ones, all terrified together, ready for their fate. Nowhere to run, nothing at all to defend themselves, nothing at all.

It was a bright August morning when the deadly rasps could be heard, echoing from every angle, the wind still, the anguish filling the small spaces between us. Tearing, razor like teeth grinding the land before us, desperate to CRASH into our insignificant lives. They were ready, they'd spoken, and we would lose......

“What are you doing, Jerry?!”

“Just cutting the grass, dear....”

 

Tata,Leah xox

When I awoke, there was fresh cold air

From the storm during the night.

Gray light steamed through the open blinds

And I decided to look through the window.

The garden spilled out below.

Purple, yellow, pink and red flowers tumbled,

Not quite buried by the vines and the green.

Silver raindrops glittered on the leaves.

It was very quite, but for crickets and song birds.

Outside the fenced garden there were red brick buildings which

Bled into the neighborhood.

There hung clotheslines with rainbow clothes.

Inside the room a potted plant touched the ceiling,

Its leafy branches making elaborate and twisted shapes.

Their creeping tendrils crept through the blinds.

The clouds had left the world a wonder.

So, I was going to put this on my own blog, but I thought it fitted Blog For Joy better, and I can see what people think. 

These are pictures of The Haytor, which to me is a bunch of rocks on a hill. Most of them are of the view from the top, but some are actually of it. Tell me what you think!

Charli xx

This was a real experience by me; it all truly happened just a couple nights ago. Don't you think the whole thing is somewhat ironic? xD

Can you “see” the picture I'm trying to portray here through the usage of few words? I've always known that little words, when used correctly and fittingly, is powerful, but I know know how powerful. Hence my trying my hand at it. How well it came out, I don't know.

Please comment on what you think about this free verse, and how I can improve on my writing! ^^ (I promise I won't bite!)

---

How This Came To Be

End of day

Morales low

Tired

Stressed

Tensions high

Stomachache

Pain

Inquiries

Scolded

Rebuked

Guilty

Misty eyes

Blurred vision

Breaks down

Quiet weeping

Pauses

Runs upstairs

Collapses on bed

Sobbing

Wailing

Brokenness

Not comforted

None understands

Forgotten bedtime hug

Sorrowful

Depressed

Self-pity

Trickling wetness

Damp pillow

Once more

Awake

Thinking

Midnight

Slow motions

Bed creaking

Flipped switch

Blinding light

Still

Blinking

Adjusting

Rummaging

Paper

Pen

Starts

Writing

THIS

As I passed the veteran’s memorial

On my way to the bird sanctuary,

I saw a teddy bear

In the hollow of a

Tree.

I hear music, I hear someone

Sitting in a dimly lit room at a piano.

And now someone else has come—

Is it a sax? A violin?

And here’s a third someone

On percussion.

I hear people

Pouring sadness,

Loneliness,

Bitterness,

Out into mouthpieces and keys.

It’s a song of sadness,

Loneliness,

Bitterness,

And yet I hear that they are together,

Together now in their

Dimly lit room,

Making music,

Letting the instruments

Lift off the sadness,

And joining together.

They know this will last.

They know other people will love their

Sound-feelings.

What do you think of my art? Comment and share your opinions!

I'm stepping out of my comfort zone here. Writing a poem that is. I'm not so good at this kind of thing but I my as well share it with you anyway.

The Way We Live

I am just like you,

Minute at the beginning of time,

Cared for and loved,

Unable to talk, just a mime.

 

'Adventure outside,

Arms open, innocently waving.

You smile at me.

I am getting tall now, growing.

 

Innocent no more,

You have seen the ways of the world.

I stand up tall,

Powerful, taking up all the spotlight.

 

I see it all now;

We have been mean, cruel and ugly.

You cut me down,

My bark and leaves no more, Gone.

 

 

x