It's finally October!!
September could not have been longer. That was the longest month of my life!
But it's finally October, and in celebration, I wore an orange tank top with a black cardigan, black and orange striped socks, and last night I actually painted my nails (black). I haven't painted my nails in over a year, lol.
Oh yeah, and today at the swim meet, on the 50 free, I actually got first place!! It was really close, but yeah! First!! Woohoo!!!! :DD
I got like a 2nd degree burn today in chem. On my left hand index finger at the tip. Why? Because I was stupid and touched the hot glass we were bending. Yep. Hayley's a dummy.
But yeah. Today has been, aside from Mother Nature dropping my not-so-pleasant monthly gift on me late last night, a pretty good day. :]
Thursday, October 1, 2009
That Iambic Pentameter Poem I Mentioned...
The Dawn of Dusk
by Hayley Swanson
Summer’s reign is falling short; giving way
to nature’s rapidly approaching dusk.
Crimson leaves make graves on the ground they lay
and corn is waiting for the final husk.
We kiss the earth, who sighs a numbered breath;
she knows very well that her time is near.
We weep with joy as she walks into death
confidently and devoid of all fear.
At winter’s peak she is reborn again,
’Round the wheel turns, forever with no end.
Now here's the poem with the stresses.
SUMmer’s REIGN is FALLing short, GIVing WAY
to NAture’s RApidLY aPPROACHing dusk.
CRIMson LEAVES make GRAVES on the GROUND they LAY
and CORN is WAITing FOR the FInal HUSK.
we KISS the EARTH, who SIGHS a NUMbered BREATH;
SHE knows VEry WELL that her TIME is NEAR.
we WEEP with JOY as SHE walks INto DEATH
CONfiDENTly AND deVOID of ALL fear.
at WINter’s PEAK she IS reBORN aGAIN,
’ROUND the WHEEL turns, forEVer WITH no END.
by Hayley Swanson
Summer’s reign is falling short; giving way
to nature’s rapidly approaching dusk.
Crimson leaves make graves on the ground they lay
and corn is waiting for the final husk.
We kiss the earth, who sighs a numbered breath;
she knows very well that her time is near.
We weep with joy as she walks into death
confidently and devoid of all fear.
At winter’s peak she is reborn again,
’Round the wheel turns, forever with no end.
Now here's the poem with the stresses.
SUMmer’s REIGN is FALLing short, GIVing WAY
to NAture’s RApidLY aPPROACHing dusk.
CRIMson LEAVES make GRAVES on the GROUND they LAY
and CORN is WAITing FOR the FInal HUSK.
we KISS the EARTH, who SIGHS a NUMbered BREATH;
SHE knows VEry WELL that her TIME is NEAR.
we WEEP with JOY as SHE walks INto DEATH
CONfiDENTly AND deVOID of ALL fear.
at WINter’s PEAK she IS reBORN aGAIN,
’ROUND the WHEEL turns, forEVer WITH no END.
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