www.whyville.net Nov 30, 2006 Weekly Issue



Sam1213
Whyville Poet

The Rush

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FRONT PAGE
CREATIVE WRITING
SCIENCE
HOT TOPICS
POLITICS
HEALTH
PANDEMIC
Wind whispers
In your ear
And slashes
At your cheeks
The lake's surface becomes glossy and hard
Washed over with snow.

Screams and laughs echo in the park
The trail is layered with slush.
Slowly,
You drag yourself home
That little blue sled trailing behind you
The hill was so high
And the ride went so quickly.
All you can remember
Is the rush

And when you get home
You know hot chocolate will be waiting
And the fire will be crackling
Merrily
Until dawn comes.

And tomorrow,
Ice skating with friends
You'll glide
And spin
Like some incredible, graceful bird.
And afterwards,
All you'll remember
Is the rush.

 

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