Writing prompts: The scientist

This one is from the writing prompt: The room filled with blue smoke as George__________.

Dove  September 20, 2011

The room filled with blue smoke as George poured the bubbling yellow liquid into the green. He made sure that he didn’t know what he was doing, before he started, It was much funner that way. His ears rang with the numerous bangs and explosions he had created. The voice said “Gregory, not that one, the purple one!” George laughed shrilly and said “How many times should I tell you Percy, call me George!” The voice had showed up some weeks ago, and had not gone away so he had named it Percy. Now it said exasperatedly “And how many times must I tell you, call me Percival.” George gave another shill laugh and poured the purple into the now bright pink liquid It bubbled up, out of the vial and onto the table, then after burning through the table, through the floor and out of sight. George looked disappointedly through rapidly growing hole in the floor. “Now I have to start all over again to make more of that stuff.” He Whined. “Lets get started!” Said Percival. George regained his spirits and laughed again, loud guffaws, high and almost as earsplitting as his beloved explosions. He steeped carefully around the large hole in the floor, now almost the size of a piano. He was wondering if an actual piano would fit through it, and if he loved the old, broken down piano in the drawing room downstairs enough to drop it through the hole, and whether he could lug the thing up all three stories of the house with no help except for Percival, when the doorbell rang.

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Sarah stood on the step of the tottering building, trying to decide whether she should ring the bell or not. She looked up at the tall top of the tower where she thought she had heard and bang from. It was probably nothing she said and dismissed it to be somebody dropping something or street work on another street. The house was set apart from the other houses. Or it was now. There was pieces of wood, and bricks scattered here and there, The showed that maybe once their had been houses there. Sarah made up her mind, and before she could change it leaned forward and pushed the button on the side of the door frame. She stood back and adjusted her brownies uniform, making sure all her pins where in place and straightening her blouse. The door flew open and Sarah stepped back in shock. In front of her stood and tall man with dark wavy hair that stood straight up with white at the ends. He had large glasses that looked as though he had kicked them around in the fire place a lot, with black smears and crooked hinges. Behind them was large eyes, wide with excitement. He had black smudges on his face and an expectant and maniacal grin. He stuck out his hand at her and said in a crackly voice “Gregory Wattermeere at your service. Of what do need assistance?” Sarah held out the box bravely and said would you like some cookies Mr…” “Oh, call me George please, everyone does!” He gave her an expectant look. “Um… You can call me Sarah.” she said. And looked down at the box in her hands. He followed her gaze said so loudly and suddenly that Sarah almost fell of the top step “COOKIES! Why didn’t you say so? Come in, Come in!” Sarah cautiously followed George through the doorway and through the house. It was a large very old looking house with paisley carpet covering the whole floor and dust and ash everywhere. She stepped carefully around an enormous hole in the drawing room floor, squeezed between and old piano with strings poking out every which way, and a bird cage with fish in it, and into what she supposed was the kitchen. “Welcome to the kitchen.” Said George and then paused for a moment as if listening to something. Then he chuckled. Yes, yes I do suppose it could use a little tidying. She looked around, their were glass vials everywhere, of every different shape, each one with a colour in it, The bottom of a pink one looked like it had been melted off, and most of them had black smears all over them, inside and out. “Oh, of course” He said “I totally forgot” He laughed high and loud, throwing his head back and shrieking with mirth. He stopped very suddenly and looked at Sarah “Meet Percival.” He said sharply. “Where is he?” She said suspiciously “How am I supposed to know!” He asked her titling his head. She realized that he was actually asking her the question. “I don”t know.” She said. George sank his head in disappointment “I cant find anybody that can.” He said. His head shot up again and it had a smile, larger than before. “Well say hello, so as not to be rude to him, (He wouldn’t like that, and then he might throw a tantrum, And I hate when he throws tantrums.) Yes, Yes of course you wouldn’t throw tantrum Perc. SORRY, PERCIVAL, Happy?” “Um… Hi?” Sarah said. “Now,” Said George “About those cookie Cookies.”

Writing prompts: The portrait

We started school a couple of weeks ago and this year we have this really cool “class” called writing prompts. What happens, is we get a subject to write about. (examples: My aunt Doesn’t ______ ,Three shades of blue, or the place where two rivers meet) Then we sit down for 15 minutes and just write about the sentence. We usually take more time to fine tune it after that.

The first one I did is titled “The Portrait” From the writing prompt “A Family Portrait”

Sept, 19, 20011

The Portrait

By dove

I strode out of my office as the doorbell rang. I opened it to the Postman. He was younger than the usual one and smiled at me nervously. I peered around the the large thick package he was balancing on the door step that was as tall and wider than him. “A package for you miss. Careful, it’s quite heavy” He told me in a shaky voice, as I took the package. He was right it was very heavy and because it was so large we had some trouble getting it in the door. I thanked him, and then he went on his way.

I layed the package down on the front entry way floor,because I didn’t think that I could carry it anywhere else. I carefully ripped of the paper, clueless to what it might be.

I hadn’t ordered anything, writing wasn’t the most well paying job on earth. Underneath there was a think cardboard box.

I went to the kitchen to get a pair of scissors, stepping care full around the enormous box. When I had Finally got the box open Their was several layers of bubble rap, and then, from what I could see, a large golden frame. I need a large space to take it out, there wasn’t any room to do it here in the entry way. I decided that the living room might have enough space, It was the biggest of the rooms in my tiny apartment.

I got it into the living room, I’ll never know how, and finally tugged the frame out of the box. It was a large oil painting of eleven people or so, all standing gravely in front of a background red velvet. They were dressed in Victorian clothes, With big powdered wigs and largest skirts than I had ever seen. The men were dressed in long coats with gold trimmings and large ruffs down the front of their shirts underneath. I marveled at it, It was fascinating. A small note floated down from the top of the painting and I bent down, picked it up, and read:

Miss Victoria Roberts,

We regret to inform you that your Great Great Aunt Torrington (Second from the left in the picture)

I didn’t know I had a great great Aunt Torrington. I looked quickly at the the picture and picked out my great great aunt. She was a small girl, With a pointed face and crooked nose, dressed in a lilac dress, And the look on her face was one that looked like she was fighting a losing battle to keep a straight face. With a smile, I turned back to the letter.

Has passed away. You, being her only living relative, inherit you this portrait of her family, one of her most precious possessions, Her castle in Yorkshire, England, And all of the money in her possession.

(equaling around $600 000 000.42)

It was then that I fainted.

The butterfly

This summer our family raised nine butterflies. It was really cool to see the caterpillars transform. That is what led me to write this poem.

 

The Butterfly

 

Crick, Crack

Out of the egg

Comes the Caterpillar

Munch, Crunch

Eat all day

Hungry Caterpillar

Stretch, Groan

Getting bigger

Grows the caterpillar

Slow, down

Start Preparing

Ready Caterpillar

Spin, Tie

Spinning Silk

Busy Caterpillar

Shift, Wiggle

Shedding Skin

Different Caterpillar

All done

Looks leafy

Waiting Caterpillar

Still waiting

Almost ready

Patient Caterpillar

Crick, Crack

Crawling out

Emerge from the cocoon

Flit, Fly

On its way

Beautiful Butterfly

Crick, Crack

Out of the egg

Comes its babys

Spring poem

Spring By Doviegirl

The birds a twitter in the trees, Singing to their hearts content,

The flowers blooming with the bees, buzzing on, wherever they went,

Through the flowers comes the breeze, laden heavy with their scent,

Sings of spring are all of these, There’s Joy wherever they are sent,

 

Caterpillars on the ground, crawling ever slowly on,

and some light dew can just be found, at the breaking light of dawn,

Listen can you hear the sound, of geese a-splashing in a pond,

Spring is here just look around, before you know, it will be gone.

 

 

Online printable Princess Kate’s tiara

I’m not big into celebrating the royal wedding, or cross stitching the date on a sampler, Or anything like that. But I must say,  I love the way tiaras look, and Kate’s tiara was gorgeous. I was so excited when I found This online printable of her tiara. Us kids have been playing palace, with littlest Page’s crown I made her for her birthday, and This.  I hope you or your kids will have as much fun!

Thirteen things I’m Thankful for Thursday

1.  Rats

2.  E-mail

3.  Spring

4.  Tag

5.  Math

6. My parents

7. Music

8. Diva our dog

9. Poetry

10. Writing

11. Nature

12. Colours

13. Fairy tales

Reasonable Report to Read

My writing assignment this week was to write a poem using as many “RE” words as possible.

Remorseful Remembering

I remember December with remorse,

For not rehoming my favorite horse,

For regard my equestrian relative,

Badly knowing he’de refuse to live,

In my refinished basements stall.

But I, not knowing I’d regrett it at all,

Repaired the stall and put him there,

I repent I showed I didn’t care,

I regrett I didn’t remove him from that stall so quaint,

For he, relentlessly would faint,

So I removed him from his home,

So he, revived could freely roam,

And relax in the backyard field,

So he, his regained energy could reveal.

-Doviegirl

30 Things I’m Thankful For

1. Life
2. My family.
3. My friends.
4. Sunshine.
5. Granny smith apples.
6. Home-schooling.
7. Our piano.
8. Our house.
9. The littlest page(LittlePage5)
10. The Manitoba Living History Society
11. Baby island (This is the first book I ever read all by myself)
12. Winter (my favorite season)
13. Dolls
14. Climbing trees
15. Sarah Mclachlan
16. Our pets (We have one rabbit and a pet rat, and a dog)
17. My teacher (also called Mommy)
18. My grandparents
19. History
20. Poetry
21. Sunny Winter days
22. Smiles
23. Laughter
24. Books
25. Our neighbors
26. Spelling
27. Making breakfast
28. The smell of fresh coffee in the morning
29. The library
30. The Songs of birds

Cherry Branch Haiku

I now have discovered the wonderfulness of  writing haiku.

(Traditional haiku usually have one verse though) Here are some I have written.

Cherry Branch

Cherry branch falling
blown down to the earth by wind
Falling and falling

beautiful tree branch
Drifting gracefully downwards
Driven swiftly down

Small bit of nature
Floating onward to the ground
Slowly comes to rest

Devotion

Everything in me
Devoted to this one thing
With all of my heart

Sleepy puppy

Sleepy puppy

By doviegirl

Puppy, puppy,in the sun,

why not get up and have some fun?

why do you sleep right now, mid-day?

why do you not get up and play?

you do not yip or jump or bark,

you do not want to walk the park,

why do you make my heart so sad

by sleeping and waisting time so bad?

Mom makes me go to sleep at night,

why not have fun while we still might?