In the beginning...

[andpuff]

When I was ten years old -- many, many, many years ago -- I spent the summer with my Great Grandmother and Great Uncle on the farm. I loved the farm. I helped with chores, I learned to milk cows, and I rode my bike for miles without worrying about traffic -- or pavement for that matter. I used to ride past this old empty house and one day, I

Comments

[wiliqueen]

Awwwwwwww!

My mom still has the spiral notebook of rainbow-colored pages they bought me when I was six. It's approximately half-filled with such gems as:

My Grandpa is 67
He used to be 66
He is very nice, you know
And there's a lot of things he can fix.

(P.S. My Grandpa can wiggle his ears too.)

As with much of the notebook's contents, it's illustrated. :-D

Possibly this demonstrates why I mostly get paid for storytelling with other people's words...

[herbmcsidhe]

Its only got memories
Of times now grown old.

That's sad-making...but beautiful imagery.

[smoooom]

Beautiful poem. Finding the poem from your past like that is so cool. And so is being published at 10.

[hobbitblue]

Not bad for ten, yay for getting paid to write (I wrote poems at that age, but settled for fame and my pic in the local paper, twice... and not a thing since... lol)

[jovieve]

I wrote a poem about my cat snowball at about the same age. My mom thought it was awesome and still has it, but no one outside the family has ever read it.