I can remember being seven years old and coming up with random stories and my mom always telling me to write them down .At school I was really great at writing, and couple years ago I started actually writing the stories .That was how I found out how much I enjoy writing those stories down. This past semester I’ve gotten to write so many other stories and try out many other genres. Writing every day has made writer’s block a little less inevitable. I’ve been writing screenplays and so many types of poems and It’s allowed me to really grow as a writer.
I chose to share “Rain” because I’ve never really done anything with this poem before. I wrote it a couple months ago in this class and then forgot about it. As I was going through my notebook, trying to figure out what to use for my last piece, this stuck out on my head. It really shows what rain means to me and what I think about whenever I hear it. To some people, it may not seem deep, but for me, it holds a lot of meaning. It’s just a free-verse poem and I hope people can see how rain, in all its dreariness, can be beautiful.
Cold and warm, falling,
Clouds made of cotton, dense and gray with water
Puddles ripple and reflection distort,
Still comforting, still falling
A flash of light a roar of sound,
A coat to keep dry in the falling mist
Trees and flowers thank the sky
A dog trembles at home, fearful of what may come,
Not knowing how harmless it can be