Sunday, March 3, 2013

A Boy Named Adam

Have you heard of the boy named Adam?  He is known as a rascal in this town—always doing what he wants, always known as the “tough guy,” always covered in dirt.  He spends a lot of his time “stealing” apples from old man Quinton; Adam always smells like apples and grass.  Old man Quinton hates when people come onto his property, but makes an exception for Adam to feast on the apple tree he hasn’t used since his beloved Anna Marie died of breast cancer.  Old man Quinton would never admit it, but Adam has become a blessing in his life.  The silver lining he needed to recover from the tragedy of his wife’s death.  He taught Adam how to fish, how to tie knots, and how to whittle wood.


His blonde hair is always a tousled mess, tangled and dirty.  His clothes are stained more often than not and are often being mended by his mother.  His skin is covered in a layer of dirt and grime, and his boots are always caked in mud.  Adam loves to roll around in the grass with his dogs, and they often go down to the river to catch toads—the river is surrounded by mud and tall grass—where Adam gets the dirtiest.  His mother has a very difficult time trying to keep him clean, especially on Sundays when Grandma Karen comes to visit for chicken and potatoes.  Grandma Karen disapproves of Adam’s lifestyle, and is actively against his lack of hygiene.  Adam’s mother tries to keep him clean at least when her mother is around, but secretly she finds his playful banter amusing and nostalgic.


His school days are precious and he loves to learn.  His teachers have become comfortable with the fact that no matter how clean he is in the morning, he will always get dirty over the course of the day.  He makes an effort to stay a little presentable for one specific someone in his class, though.  Her name is Amelia, and he thinks she is the most beautiful girl he has ever seen.  Her dark brown natural curls that hang loosely over her shoulders always shine when they play together during recess.  Amelia is the gentle side of Adam; she shows him how to pick flowers without crushing them, points out the cloud shapes in the sky, and what it means to be “friends.”  Amelia is Adam’s only human friend, aside from his mother.


There is one person lacking from Adam’s life though.  When he was just barely three years old, his father walked out on him and his mother.  He deserted Adam and his mother because he simply “did not love them anymore.”  Adam barely remembers anything of his father, only that he was never really a nice person.  For now he simply accepts the fact that his father hasn’t been there for his mother, and tries to make it his job that she is cared for.  He spends his evenings reading, playing games, making dinner, and singing songs with his mother—doing the job his father never did.


Adam may be a rascal, and he may spend more time being dirty than being clean.  But he has a soft side that he reserves for the special people in his life.

Let me know what you think!
Lot's of Love,

P.S. I'm going to start blogging more often cause I spend so much of my time looking at other blogs rather than blogging on my own!  Hahaha

Thursday, January 10, 2013

Hey folks!  So coolness news, Houston Girls Chorus split up in two!  15 girls to each choir, and I got into the more advanced group! And the director gave us a hint of what we'll be singing-oh my goodness, it's gorgeous!

Anyway, I'm posting a new poem today.  And come February, I'm going to blog every day-I promise.  I'm going to do what is called the "30 day song challenge."  You'll just have to wait and see what it is!  Mwa haa haa!

This poem is called The Lady and the Train (I had a great picture to put with it, but this new blogger layout is not working)

There is a woman.

A woman who sits alone.

Every day with her burgundy suitcase,

She waits for the train’s drone.


No one asks for her ticket,

No one asks for her name,

She is simply another in the crowd,

Yet every day it is the same.


She carries a small journal

Writing the days away,

She never looks up, just writes

And no one asks, “What does it say?”


On a stormy day, she was still there

No train departed for fear of the weather.

She finished the journal this day,

And stood with a smile as faint as a feather.


She was asked by a man,

“You leave today, madam?”

“That is correct, sir,” she replied

“There is no train, no rhythm.”


She smiled, “You don’t need to know,

Where you shall end up in life,

For it is how you get there that matters,

And what you do once you arrive.”


She walked off into the rain,

She disappeared into the ghastly weather.

She was forgotten,
The wise and lovely author.

Until next time!