GHOST

GHOST

I’m one tiny person as normal as ever.

The only small difference, is I live forever

Like a normal young girl, I can walk on two legs,

But it’s really quite sad that I cannot eat eggs.

Yes, in fact, many foods I can’t eat anymore.

And I fear if I tried, it would fall to the floor.

My mind has no friction, my feet have no grip.

If you threw something at me, it’d go through my hip.

I can still go to school. I can still learn new things.

I can listen for gossip, then pull a few strings.

I could probably sing, but you’d think that I’d sinned.

I could most likely yawn, but you’d think it the wind.

I used to have friends my entire life through.

But I then went unnoticed unlike each of you.

Right now you can’t see me, because you’re like most.

And you can’t feel my presence because I’m a GHOST!

MY MONSTER

MY MONSTER

I would like you to meet my most dearest of friends.

And he gives out the shivers and chills by the tens.

He’s green and he’s scary, and slimy galore.

His knuckles are hairy and many things more.

His talons like knives, and his teeth are like razors.

His voice is pure gravel, his eyes are like lazors.

He scares me all night, and that keeps me in bed.

He keeps me all shivering and filling with dread.

He lurks in the shadows and shrieks in the dark

And yet, being with him is a walk in the park!

Throughout all the years that we’ve known each other.

We’ve but one thing in common. We both hate my mother.

We both quite agree she should give us more candy,

And also believe that some pie would be handy.

You see? He’s not bad, and I know he’s got quirks.

The place that he sleeps is not good, but it works.

His home is quite dirty. It’s under my bed.

But I better not say so, or he’ll have my head.

 

The Brainless Wonder

 

THE BRAINLESS WONDER

 

There once was a girl who, in fact lacked a brain.

And I know that this statement sounds rather insane,

But it’s true to my eyes and my word and my native,

that this brainless girl is not close to creative.

I ask her a question as simple as this,

would you rather eat cheddar or rather eat swiss?

And what does she say? I prefer neither nor,

and then just with that she walks right out the door.

That’s mere one example of her simple young brain

ALL her answers are small, why they’re plainer than plain!

If I were to ask billy, Joey or John

if they’d rather lack size or they’d rather lack brawn

they would say that they’d rather be stronger than strong

And then they’d leave the bright room with a skip and a song.

Now I shake and I fear for this little girl’s life,

For what would she say at the end of her life?

She needs to be clever, her last words made wise

and then as she slips she won’t close her eyes.

It’s an excilent way to pass through the door.

I don’t want her last words to be neither and nor.

Or at least these were once all my thoughts on this girl. . .

But then I read something that bout made me twirl.

I read something written upon but a slip

and when I read who had wrote it I would just about trip. . .

Thirty cloaked bananas jumping high into the air

and gruesome giants populated risers everywhere.

A world of laughter, world of cheer, a world of fairies is quite queer

and all of it has lack of fear.

 This place is where I disappear.

Signed- “The brainless wonder.”

I realized then that I was wrong, and never once was right.

All she needed to be good was take a pen and write.

I shall not cast this girl asunder.

For all she is, is a

BRAINLESS WONDER

 

(FALSE) OBITUARY: The Woman Who Died by Electric Toothbrush.

Exactly how many people do you know who are deathly afraid of Electric toothbrushes and repel at the idea of confronting a cashier? My guess would be, not many. Hannah Margaret Scott was known for many strange fears, including the fear of windows, staircases, doors, and being alone. But despite these rather interesting quirks she was mostly known for being an eccentric puzzle in and of herself. She wanted, and tried, to participate in everything that was possible. She was friends with no one, yet friends with everyone. She was either extremely enthusiastic or extremely dull. Overall, she was a very EXTREME person.

Now, this extreme person had many a hobby. She avidly enjoyed reading, writing, going to school, singing, and acting. In fact, if she were here today she would be able to proudly say that by the age of ninety-eight, she had read just about every fantasy book ever written in her day in age-(that is including the ones she forgot she even read.) She also widely enjoyed the company of her seven siblings, Jasmine, Eva, Amelia, Kent, Abby, Ada, and Jim. She also loved taking care of her many nieces and nephews with the spare time she had when she was in college.

Hannah’s love for reading and writing ties into her rather could -be-more-glamorous job. After Graduating from UVU university in 2028 she went to battle the world with a Bachelors in Arts, and a Bachelors in English. She moved on to be an English professor at BYU for a few years until she finally reached her end goal. By the age of thirty, she had submitted her first #1 New York Times best-selling novel Moonlight Sonata. She went on to become a world famous author, and poet.

At age Thirty-nine, Hannah Scott was reintroduced to a man she had known in her childhood Named Brandon Alred. After three years of fighting, bickering and deciding many a time that she didn’t like this man a sliver or a lick, they decided to get married in the Salt Lake Temple. They had four kids. Two girls and two boys.

Now, Bringing back Electric toothbrushes. One specific part of this man’s daily life was the use of electric toothbrushes, which Hannah had not used since her youth, and had been deathly afraid of them her entire life for no apparent reason. Their whole marriage, the fought over this matter and Brandon tried fervently to get her to use an electric toothbrush. By the age of ninety-two, she had finally given in. The brand-new small-head 4000 re-attachable electric toothbrush had entered their home and was about to enter Hannah Alred’s mouth. She turned on the toothbrush and put it in her mouth. After a minute or so, she was feeling okay until she accidentally bit down very hard on the very tip of the toothbrush. She heard a loud CRACK! and the toothbrush head detached. She gasped and the small toothbrush head went STRAIGHT. DOWN. Her air pipe. . .

You can guess what happened next. An hour later she was found unconscious on the floor of her bathroom. She never woke up. Her husband died of heartbreak soon after. She was a loving wife, and mother to thousands of amazing, real characters straight out of her mind, and in her household. Her stories will be known throughout the ages.

THE WOMAN WHO DIED

BY ELECTRIC TOOTHBRUSH

 

THE END

THE NEVERENDING GIFT

THE NEVERENDING GIFT

I’ve got a gift that is super amazing.

I can make gravity shift and start raising.

I can make pigs swim in water so deep

And then make them go fast until they want to weep.

I can do so much more than a silly old wand.

I can turn a brunet into one shining blond.

I can make humans fly, or the aliens come.

I can make you quite happy, or make you quite glum.

I can wake for long hours and sleep for long nights.

I can put on a helmet then win the world’s fights.

I can end a huge war with the snap of a finger.

I can catch a bright fairy, but not make her linger.

I can turn someone whos smaller than small,

Into someone who’s greater, and taller than tall.

I can make you so round I can make you so fat,

That no matter the size, you won’t fit any hat.

I can also be living while still being dead.

I can rise from the grave, but while missing a head.

I could probably even destroy the whole world.

I could take your leg straight and then put it back curled.

Yes, I really do know that this gift is fantastic.

I can make someone stiff, and then stretch like elastic.

I can also dress up, and look just like as a queen.

But don’t let that fool you. I’ll also be mean.

I can do anything that just comes to my mind.

I can make you all-seeing, or leave you all blind.

I can do almost anything any time ever.

But it’s all in my head, so don’t worry, I’d never.

The Tree that Never ends

THE TREE THAT NEVER ENDS

                                                              

I’ve got a tree that’s as big as can be,

But the horrid truth is, that the top, I can’t see!

 

Now one day I decided I’d just have to know

How tall on earth did that giant tree grow?

So I started to climb and for hours on end,

My poor feet wish to ache and my back wants to bend!

But I carried on through, just one branch then the other

I slip and I fall, then I reach for another.

A bird then flies by and he gives me a tweet

“You won’t reach the top you’ll just fall off your feet!”

“I ask that you, Boy will just stop your endeavor,

Because this old tree will just go on forever!”

Of course, I did not quite agree with this plan,

“No way!” did  I say, “I’ll trudge on like a man!”

With the flick of my wrist, the  young bird flew away,

But for me, of course, I decided to stay.

I clump up the tree, and just want to speed up!

And with my heart blazing, I’ll never give up!

At the cusp of my sight, I could see hues of green

If I looked even closer, some orange could be seen.

I only climbed faster, I just had to know

And as I got closer my sight, too, did grow

There were oranges, apples, and fruits with no name

And every last one of them- now mine to claim

I stuffed all the fruit that I should in my hood

Then I put even more in my arms that I could.

I took a large bite, and the juice dribbled down

It first came to my chin and then fell to the ground.

The juices were tart and sweeter than ever

And was quite totally worth the endeavor.

I made my way down, but then soon was found stuck

The fruit that I found must be sweet, but bad luck

I cried out for help in a desperate way

Hoping that someone would come save the day.

I sat there in silence, then called out some more

As the perfect disaster, it started to poor

I sat there and cried refusing to eat

Now ignoring the fact that the fruit was so sweet.

A sound from the angels then perked up my ears.

And the flapping of wings then extinguished my fears.

I spotted the bird I had seen that same day

And then I could see he was coming this way!

“Hello, little boy!” The bird then did sound

“It seems that you’ve reached the top from the ground!”

“You have done something that no one else has”

“But not only that, you’ve done it with pizzazz!”

“And so my dear friend, I will help you get down.”

You soon will be saved, so there’s no need to frown!”

My cheeks then curved up in a smile so wide,

And I thanked him and thanked him with my newfound pride

The bird called some friends, and six more came along.

They gathered my fruit as they sang a sweet song.

I climbed to the ground as the birds flew right with me

And as I reached the dirt I was filled with great glee.

The birds were good help, so I gave them some fruit,

And then I went home with the rest of my loot.

FRESH FAILED FAMOUS ROOT-BEER

There are many funny things that I have seen in my short lifetime. There is one story in particular that I would love to share. . . .

On a not-so-bright day in my chillen-hood I was walking down the stairs like a normal person would on a regular not-so-bright day. I walked into the room called the kitchen with sparkling eyes as I saw hat my father dear was making. . . .ROOT BEER. Any person who has ever had the privilege of tasting my dad’s gloriously famous homemade root beer knows that the main ingredient HAS to be little flecks of heaven, it is so good.

Now, One day when I was probably about four years old, I was walking down the stairs when. . . .

BAM!! BOOM!! POP!!

BOTTLES SHATTERED, OR CORKS EXPLODED, SURPRISED FACES AND…..root beer……. ALL. OVER. THE KITCHEN.

I’m talking the ceiling, I’m talking the walls, floors, chandelier, light sockets, faces, mouths, EVERYWHERE  you looked.

 

ROOTBEER.

Even with the root beer explosion and the mess we would later spend hours cleaning up, nad in spite of the wasted root beer, we all – ABBY, ADA, DAD, MOM, KENT, AMELIA, . . . . OTHER FAMILY MEMBERS – began to laugh and laugh and LAUGH. Now, afterward, we were able to clean up MOST of my fathers root-beer mishap.

But if you look in the right places, you’ll find little-dried drops of dad’s FRESH FAILED FAMOUS ROOTBEER

 

 

 

Read More

RANDOM COMPLIMENT LEGITIMATE REASON – my story

It was the day of my long-awaited performance. A simple advisory performance, and last of the group, but a performance nonetheless My heart was beating rapidly before, during, and even more so after, but at least it was out of the way and I could keep my head down for the rest of the day so people wouldn’t notice me, “the girl who performed shorter and louder than everyone else’s performance that day.

I was outside talking to some of my friends during lunch, and all of a sudden, I get an “oh my goodness! You did so well today!” I turned around to find a girl standing with her friend looking at me with a sparkle in her eyes and a smile on her face. She continued to say that she loved my performance and that I had done great. Being me, I was overjoyed and said “You know what? Thank you so much! I don’t know you at all, but I’m going to give you a hug.” we both laughed and we gave each other hugs. It was a fantastic moment! It made me feel so good.

And then I looked at her hair. It was crisp, swoopy, thin, yet fine, and the best shade of brown. I gasped and looked up at her and said. “Oh my gosh, I just LOVE your hair! It’s so pretty!” Again we laughed, and we said our goodbyes, but I could tell that the compliment I gave her had just as well meant as much to her as her compliment to me had meant to myself. That one moment kinda made my whole day believe it or not. It gave me that little boost of confidence that I needed. someone KNEW that I existed and they had LIKED something that I had done, enough to tell me so. . . . . . . . EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!!

GIVING COMPLIMENTS ARE     A L W A Y S    OKAY. NEVER SAY OTHERWISE.

Mr. Sly

  1. Mr. SLY

I heard Mr. Sly is a very bad man,

He can fight with bare hands like no one else can!

He’ll gobble you up and your friends in a snap,

He’ll come while you’re sleeping so don’t take a nap.

His eyes are as red as the blood on his knife,

What I heard, is that he killed his own wife.

He’s mean and he’s nasty, no kindness is there,

And don’t even mention that lice in his hair.

Quick now, he’s coming! We must go inside,

We have to move faster, find somewhere to hide.

He thumps up the stairs as I peek out the door,

I can feel the vibrations that come from the floor.

My soul full of fear and my brain full of thoughts,

They all went away when I saw, Mr. Pots.

“Why are you here?” I asked with such wonder,

I told him to hide, “Quick, come on under!”

“Mr. Sly’s coming, he’ll murder us all!  

I hear that he’s really awfully tall.”

“Oh little missy, you must become tame,

For I and the Sly are one in the same!”

“My house is so scary, my wife’s on a trip,

What have the kids done to make these words slip?”

“The children were mean! They gave me that name!

They called me a trickster, and they called me lame.”Oh so scary they called you lameeee

“Young girl, I’m not scary I’m rightfully kind,

Surely you see that, or you would be blind.”

“I see my mistake, I judged you unfair,

And so I won’t listen to them anywhere.”

“I know you are kind, I don’t care what I hear,

I will get to know you, and not cower in fear.”

THE HERO IN THE HOME

I Have a hero. My hero is to be expected. My hero is the kind of person that will accidentally make his homemade root beer explode all over the kitchen, who loves to give long lectures, documentaries, and politics. He’s scary great at the advice in nearly any department on this planet, and he gives the warmest hugs. He’s the kind of person who will do something nice for you, or do what’s best for you, just because It’s in his natural character.

This is the kind of person who would rather keep to himself and doesn’t smile often, but when he does, it makes you feel just as warm as a cup of hot chocolate on a chilly winter morning.

This person is my dear old dad. He’s exactly the kind of person that I want to be. I could’ve written about any of the countless inspiring authors and illustrators, and writers. Or even a celebrity I admire  (Though all the celebrities that I like are dead.) I chose instead to write about my Dad because he is the biggest hero in my life. He loves to “opera sing”, and he knows just when to laugh, and he’s always pleasant to be around. He’s a constant worrier, and a total printer nerd, but he’s my dad and my hero, and my friend. I love him with all my heart.

he is, 100%, the kind of person I aspire to be.