Digital Portfolio
Reflective personal poem:
If plane tickets were cheap
If plane tickets were cheap
I would visit Sweden first
Crisp clean snow and northern lights
A friendly face would greet me
But instead she is worlds away
And requires months of careful planning
So here I am bound to stay
Plus I hate the airport
If gasoline was cheap
And didn’t pollute
I would have seen the rockies
And all the parks by now
Colorado for spring break
With my love and my dog
But driving leaves a dirty wake
In the air and my bank account
If travel was cheap
I’d meet the whole world
Singapore, Germany, Galapagos, Israel
And everywhere in between
But travel’s not cheap
So I resort to pictures
Of mountains high and oceans deep
And the world I’ll never see
If plane tickets were cheap
I would visit Sweden first
Crisp clean snow and northern lights
A friendly face would greet me
But instead she is worlds away
And requires months of careful planning
So here I am bound to stay
Plus I hate the airport
If gasoline was cheap
And didn’t pollute
I would have seen the rockies
And all the parks by now
Colorado for spring break
With my love and my dog
But driving leaves a dirty wake
In the air and my bank account
If travel was cheap
I’d meet the whole world
Singapore, Germany, Galapagos, Israel
And everywhere in between
But travel’s not cheap
So I resort to pictures
Of mountains high and oceans deep
And the world I’ll never see
1 prose, 2 poems:
Nothing to Worry About
The sun was shining on the lake that day as I set out on a hike to clear my mind. I’ve never since seen a day so beautiful. I breathed the fresh rocky mountain air and cool lake breeze swept through my long, golden hair that I had let drift free behind me while I walked. If I looked down the mountain, I could see the twinkling water in the valley below and I could hear the ringing sounds of the songbirds echoing softly. After a while I saw ahead of me an older couple, walking sticks in hand as they made their way towards me. I smiled a greeting at them as they got close but received no such welcome in return. Instead, the woman’s eyebrows were knitted tightly together and the man was glancing around anxiously as if they were being followed.
“Be watchful, miss”, he said when they got close to passing me.
“A bear has been spotted near here!”, cried the woman, her voice high and shaky. “You better be finding shelter soon, it’s dangerous to walk alone through these mountains.”
“Be sure to make lots of noise as you go to deter the bear from your path”, added the man, as his stocky hiker’s build lumbered past me.
I nodded to show that I understood and continued on my way up the trail, fairly undeterred. Being new to the region of the Rockies, everything I saw struck me with wonder and I soon found that nothing around me looked familiar. I was alone and lost in the rocky mountains, but I wasn’t worried. I could still see the lake and I knew that if I just kept to the trail eventually I’d make it back around to where I had started. I wasn’t worried about the bear. If I just made some noise as a walked, no bear in its right sense would come after me. Plus this terrain was enormous and covered by green foliage good for hiding if need be. The chances of one bear happening to cross the one path that I was walking on were pretty slim. So I continued on my trail, whistling and kicking rocks as I went. I felt particularly joyful in the mountains. The sunlight streaming through the trees warmed my face and my spirits and I soon forgot about any prospective threat of America’s deadliest predator. I reached a spot where the mountain plateaued, a beautiful meadow sprawled out in front of me. I was in a fairytale world as I skipped through the tall, swaying grasses, laughing at the yellow-winged butterflies that lifted into the air from where they were perched on their lilac daisies. I was in a different world. I hopped up on a boulder the size of a small car and peered over the edge to see the lake below me. A drop of hundreds of feet stretched before my eyes. I stepped away from the ledge, my head dizzy with adrenaline. That’s when I realized how big the lake actually was. The water was so vast and I could see the place where I started my trek many miles away; a little parking lot clearing surrounded by greenery. It would be at least another 2 hours of hiking downhill. I turned around to begin my hike, unaware that time was not the only obstacle that stood between me and my destination.
30 minutes down the trail I felt my stomach growling. I hadn’t eaten in hours and we had been out of trail mix at the house so I had nothing in my pack that would curb my hunger. I couldn’t ignore the searing hunger that was taking over my body. These were the rocky mountains; there had to be some sort of berries or fruit growing in the flora nearby. I made my way through the bushes right off the trail and pushed aside soft leaves and ragged branches until a gleam of red caught my eye. A bush slightly to my left was full of plump raspberries, perfect for picking. Not even caring to check for bugs, I snatched raspberry after raspberry off the bush and popped them in my mouth, letting the juices bleed out onto my tongue. I went in for a second handful, peering into the bush for the best looking ones. I started to reach for an extra shiny one, but my breath caught as if someone had pulled the oxygen out of me. The berry that I was reaching for was not a berry, but an eye, peering back at me through the bush. Ever so slowly, I pulled my hand back towards my body but my feet would not move. They stuck to the ground and my I could feel my heart pumping blood faster and faster through my body. I read once that bears could smell fear. If that were true, this one could have feasted on the scent of me. I felt each hair on my body stand up as a creature the size of a shopping cart emerged from behind the bush. It must have been fairly young since it only reached my chest when on all fours. Its coarse, chestnut fur prickled as it stood in front of me. A low growl began to issue from its throat, a sound so deep and unwieldy. Every muscle in my body was tense and my teeth pressed tightly against each other. The bear’s nose twitched and its lip flicked upward, flashing yellow teeth the size of my thumb. With all the effort in my body, I stepped backward. The bear’s growl intensified. There was no way for me to get out of this. Without so much as breathing, I took another step, this time to the side. This time the bear’s growl lessened slightly. I took another step to the side. And another. With each step, the animal in front of me looked less terrifying. I risked a breath and took my steps faster, not looking at the bear until I was standing at least 50 feet away. I glanced back towards my aggressor, realizing that it was no longer paying attention to me. Instead, it was clawing at the tree that only a few minutes ago, I had stood against. An angry buzzing made me look closer at the scene before me. There were hundreds of angry bees flying out of the tree. As the bear hit the tree with its massive paws, combs of honey toppled to the ground. Soon it stopped pawing at the hive buried in the tree and plopped down in front of its prized honey. The scene was almost comical. A moment ago, I thought that bear was going to end my life, and now it sat like a giant plush animal crunching on honeycombs, despite the bees’ protests. When I was confident that the bear was well distracted, I made my way quietly back to the path and ran all the way down the mountain. Only when I reached the bottom could I really breathe again. My heart and head were pounding, but I laughed a sigh of relief. I realized that we have misjudged bears. The only reason for the bear’s aggression towards me was because I stood in the way of its meal. It would sure make me angry too if someone stood in my way. From that day on, I always hike with a buddy and I stay away from bear territory out of respect, not fear. They want their space just as we want ours.
The sun was shining on the lake that day as I set out on a hike to clear my mind. I’ve never since seen a day so beautiful. I breathed the fresh rocky mountain air and cool lake breeze swept through my long, golden hair that I had let drift free behind me while I walked. If I looked down the mountain, I could see the twinkling water in the valley below and I could hear the ringing sounds of the songbirds echoing softly. After a while I saw ahead of me an older couple, walking sticks in hand as they made their way towards me. I smiled a greeting at them as they got close but received no such welcome in return. Instead, the woman’s eyebrows were knitted tightly together and the man was glancing around anxiously as if they were being followed.
“Be watchful, miss”, he said when they got close to passing me.
“A bear has been spotted near here!”, cried the woman, her voice high and shaky. “You better be finding shelter soon, it’s dangerous to walk alone through these mountains.”
“Be sure to make lots of noise as you go to deter the bear from your path”, added the man, as his stocky hiker’s build lumbered past me.
I nodded to show that I understood and continued on my way up the trail, fairly undeterred. Being new to the region of the Rockies, everything I saw struck me with wonder and I soon found that nothing around me looked familiar. I was alone and lost in the rocky mountains, but I wasn’t worried. I could still see the lake and I knew that if I just kept to the trail eventually I’d make it back around to where I had started. I wasn’t worried about the bear. If I just made some noise as a walked, no bear in its right sense would come after me. Plus this terrain was enormous and covered by green foliage good for hiding if need be. The chances of one bear happening to cross the one path that I was walking on were pretty slim. So I continued on my trail, whistling and kicking rocks as I went. I felt particularly joyful in the mountains. The sunlight streaming through the trees warmed my face and my spirits and I soon forgot about any prospective threat of America’s deadliest predator. I reached a spot where the mountain plateaued, a beautiful meadow sprawled out in front of me. I was in a fairytale world as I skipped through the tall, swaying grasses, laughing at the yellow-winged butterflies that lifted into the air from where they were perched on their lilac daisies. I was in a different world. I hopped up on a boulder the size of a small car and peered over the edge to see the lake below me. A drop of hundreds of feet stretched before my eyes. I stepped away from the ledge, my head dizzy with adrenaline. That’s when I realized how big the lake actually was. The water was so vast and I could see the place where I started my trek many miles away; a little parking lot clearing surrounded by greenery. It would be at least another 2 hours of hiking downhill. I turned around to begin my hike, unaware that time was not the only obstacle that stood between me and my destination.
30 minutes down the trail I felt my stomach growling. I hadn’t eaten in hours and we had been out of trail mix at the house so I had nothing in my pack that would curb my hunger. I couldn’t ignore the searing hunger that was taking over my body. These were the rocky mountains; there had to be some sort of berries or fruit growing in the flora nearby. I made my way through the bushes right off the trail and pushed aside soft leaves and ragged branches until a gleam of red caught my eye. A bush slightly to my left was full of plump raspberries, perfect for picking. Not even caring to check for bugs, I snatched raspberry after raspberry off the bush and popped them in my mouth, letting the juices bleed out onto my tongue. I went in for a second handful, peering into the bush for the best looking ones. I started to reach for an extra shiny one, but my breath caught as if someone had pulled the oxygen out of me. The berry that I was reaching for was not a berry, but an eye, peering back at me through the bush. Ever so slowly, I pulled my hand back towards my body but my feet would not move. They stuck to the ground and my I could feel my heart pumping blood faster and faster through my body. I read once that bears could smell fear. If that were true, this one could have feasted on the scent of me. I felt each hair on my body stand up as a creature the size of a shopping cart emerged from behind the bush. It must have been fairly young since it only reached my chest when on all fours. Its coarse, chestnut fur prickled as it stood in front of me. A low growl began to issue from its throat, a sound so deep and unwieldy. Every muscle in my body was tense and my teeth pressed tightly against each other. The bear’s nose twitched and its lip flicked upward, flashing yellow teeth the size of my thumb. With all the effort in my body, I stepped backward. The bear’s growl intensified. There was no way for me to get out of this. Without so much as breathing, I took another step, this time to the side. This time the bear’s growl lessened slightly. I took another step to the side. And another. With each step, the animal in front of me looked less terrifying. I risked a breath and took my steps faster, not looking at the bear until I was standing at least 50 feet away. I glanced back towards my aggressor, realizing that it was no longer paying attention to me. Instead, it was clawing at the tree that only a few minutes ago, I had stood against. An angry buzzing made me look closer at the scene before me. There were hundreds of angry bees flying out of the tree. As the bear hit the tree with its massive paws, combs of honey toppled to the ground. Soon it stopped pawing at the hive buried in the tree and plopped down in front of its prized honey. The scene was almost comical. A moment ago, I thought that bear was going to end my life, and now it sat like a giant plush animal crunching on honeycombs, despite the bees’ protests. When I was confident that the bear was well distracted, I made my way quietly back to the path and ran all the way down the mountain. Only when I reached the bottom could I really breathe again. My heart and head were pounding, but I laughed a sigh of relief. I realized that we have misjudged bears. The only reason for the bear’s aggression towards me was because I stood in the way of its meal. It would sure make me angry too if someone stood in my way. From that day on, I always hike with a buddy and I stay away from bear territory out of respect, not fear. They want their space just as we want ours.
Narrative Poem-The Boy Who Cried Wolf
A boy sat alone in a field full of grass,
guarding the crop as long hours pass.
The task ahead was important he knew,
but sheep really are no fun to talk to.
“How ever can I make this boredom bearable?
“Watching paint dry would be well comparable”.
And then a thought hit him, out of the blue.
His boredom had been given a new-colored hue.
“I’ll play a mean prank and I’ll fool everyone!
That will be sure to give me some fun.”
A wolf! A wolf!,” he cried towards the town,
and all of the people came running on down
to the field where the boy was guarding the sheep,
only to find him in a laughing heap.
“You fools!,” he jeered with tears in his eyes,
pointing his finger at those to which he’d lied.
“You actually thought there was a wolf, you did!”,
but the people of the town were not amused with this kid.
“You ought be ashamed, you gave us a scare,
yelling about wolves when none are really there.”
The boy brushed them off, saying, “it’s all in good fun,
but I won’t do it again, I promise I’m done.”
The townspeople lumbered back down to their streets,
Mumbling some things that I shouldn’t repeat.
But, back in the field, the boy was far from through,
for quitting his fun, his intentions were few.
He said, “I’ll wait a day
and see what they say
when another fake wolfie comes out to play.”
Then he cackled a laugh and fell asleep fast
in the hay by the sheep as the night drifted past.
When morning came he exclaimed, “O gee!
I just cannot wait for the wolf I won’t see.”
He waited half the day before making his claim.
And like the day before, it happened the same.
“A wolf! A wolf!,” he cried towards the town,
and all of the people came running on down.
They looked ‘round anxiously, prepared for a threat,
But saw no such thing, just the boy where he set.
“You insult us!,” they cried, “You’ve tricked us once more.”
The town knew his intentions were poor.
“Your actions have consequences, there’s not a doubt!
If you keep on this path you best watch out!”
But the boy did not care, he was having a ball.
Playing mean tricks was the most fun of all.
A few hours later, he was sitting alone
by his sheep, he dozed, his senses not honed.
When out of the woods came a wolf-two-three!
They stalked toward the boy and his sheep with glee.
The guarder of sheep awoke with a start
And seeing 3 wolves, he felt a jump in his heart.
They were not of his imagination this time
He didn’t know what to do, it was blank in his mind.
The first wolf approached him and started to talk,
“Is it you who is guarding this lovely, white flock?”
When the boy said nothing, the wolf continued,
“Are these sheep in this pen up next on the menu?
“We have heard you calling ‘wolf!’ for the past 2 days,
And we could only believe you meant for us in your gaze.
So why don’t you speak now, son, are you dumb?”
The boy took a breath and let out an “um”.
He then remembered what he should do
to alert the town of these creatures of new.
“Wolf! A wolf!”, he cried towards the town,
but none of the people came running on down.
They knew well enough of the sheep boy’s cruel tricks,
they ignored his lying voice, saying, “that should do the fix.”
Down in the field, the wolves had an epiphany.
“Ah, now we understand for what you were calling us may be.
You use us to fool and yet still here we came
Well we do not appreciate your insult to our name.”
A few days later, the people wanted some wool,
They thought they had taught a lesson to that lying-hearted fool.
What they found in the field, however was not wool nor sheep,
But bones and bones of plenty, lying in a heap.
If I Were a Tree
If I were a tree
Grown from no more than a seed
That had drifted not far from mother
Originally I may have been thought a weed
But will bloom into another
If I were a tree
I think I would be
A broad and weeping willow
My roots are strong and sturdy
But still they are reaching and growing
And I am never knowing
Where on this earth they will go
If I were a tree
A willow consumed in weeping plea
With a fairytale aura
I belong to a different sea
And though my leaves droop towards the grounded flora
All the while they are healthy and green
If I were a tree
I’d give shade to those willing to see
Past my long and shielding limbs
But I’d forget what I used to be
From adapting to all new hymns
If I were a tree