Fall

I met a girl called Fall, her eyes glistened with orange leaves as her hair flowed in the gentle wind.

Her voice was soft and calming as she whispered to the fluffy clouds.

She walked through the paper-thin Autumn leaves; her hair trailing behind her.

Her eyes twinkled in the sun.

I stared at her, she stared back.

Her hair hung over her freckled face.

She whispered to me underneath the orange trees,                   “Why do I always feel like, somebody’s watching me.”

Spring

I met a girl called Spring, her hair was golden and shiny, and it hung over her face.

Her voice was soft and calming.

She picked some flowers up from the ground.

She faintly held them to her heart, I felt the love she gave to them.

Her dress flowed in the gentle breeze.

Her eyes were green, a lovely crystal green.

She held out the flowers to me I slowly put my hands out to take them. I felt power when I touched them. Like warmness and kindness had just entered my heart.

Lola. M THS-Truro High