Ode to the North

Hello, humans. Guess what. GAME OF THRONES RETURNS TONIGHT. I'M SO EXCITED AND AFRAID. I can't wait to find out what happens. Unfortunately, I have a gut feeling that my beloved Sansa will die this season, and I really hope I'm proven wrong. However, I won't accept anything as cannon until The Winds of Winter comes out and I can know the *true* story. In case you didn't notice, I'm throwing shade at two particular men, but it doesn't matter. They make a pretty good show. We should at least give them that.

To celebrate the premiere of the long-awaited seventh season, I will share another poem that I wrote for my eighth grade poetry project with you. This one has to do with A Song of Ice and Fire. Hope you like it.

*****

Ode to the North

Wolves, lizard-lions, and bears

Home of ancient kings and heirs

Built of ice, honorable and just

We are worthy of your trust

But we destroy deceivers

We hold the old gods' favors

We have many different saviors 

Our trees have many eyes

Ancient, honorable, and wise

They'll answer our demands

Our blood is noble and ancient

We are fierce but patient

We have things long ago lost

We aren't bothered by a little frost

By the old ways we live

You may think we're defeated

But you're just being conceited

In no time we'll swallow you whole 

You won't leave without paying your toll

In the North we remember

*****

Winter is here, and only the pack will survive.

Love, 

Nan.

Pintor

Just like the average man, Robin spent most of his days in a cubicle. Still, his little station was different, for he worked in a garden. It was around the size of a small kitchen, but beautiful nonetheless. Its walls were completely covered in green vines, and all of Robin’s favorite flowers were present- marigolds, buttercups, and tall, red roses. Naturally, their lovely smell and bright colors attracted all kinds of butterflies. Robin enjoyed looking at the green longwings, blue morphos, and the occasional monarch. While he took all that wonderful sight in, he listened to the bluebirds’ song.

Robin stood serenely in that garden, palette in hand. With careful movements of his brush, he painted the ocean at night. Why would he paint the sea if he was nowhere near a beach, you ask? The answer is simple: he whiffed a faint scent of salt and a vivid memory of the ocean came to his mind.

Robin was quite a skilled artist: he could paint every image in his head onto a canvas. That was the way he created most of his works. In fact, he did it so well that it had gained him a considerable amount of fame. Kings, rich executives, and all kinds of aristocrats around the globe invited him to demonstrate his talent in person. Because of this he could live off his art, unlike many other painters.

This afternoon, however, Robin wasn’t showing his world-renown talents to anybody. He was painting just for the pleasure of it, and because once he had an image stuck in his head, it was literally painful to keep it in.

Now, the ocean that came to shape on Robin’s canvas roared with life. It wasn’t extremely turbulent, but it wasn’t static either. The waves’ impressive demeanor demanded respect and admiration. They crashed into the rocks at the shore, creating copious quantities of sea foam. Nevertheless, the waves didn’t convey fear at all. Seeing them from a distance made the observer feel safe and delighted by the sea’s majesty.

Up in the clear and dark sky, the huge moon delivered a similar feeling. It looked imposing and radiant while at the same time looking caring and motherly, like a loving queen. The stars seemed to be aware of her presence as they all twinkled beautifully and vigorously at her command.

Robin was in such a trance that he failed to notice when the darkness of his picture began seeping into his garden. In fact, he was only aware of it when painting became practically impossible due to the scarce light. Soon, it started getting cold and his younger sister called him inside. Satisfied with his day’s work, he gathered his equipment up and returned to his house.   

*****

Hello, humans. Here's a short story about nothing in particular. It was mainly meant to be aesthetic. Hope you like it.

Tomorrow I'll be going to camp and I'm *pretty* nervous about it. I don't like camping, but I know this will be an amazing experience. I'll tell you more about it when I get back. Wish me luck.

It's almost back to school time! Oh, no. I love vacations. Guess I'll have to return to the stress of IB soon *sigh*.

GAME OF THRONES RETURNS THIS SUNDAY. OH, YEAH. I'M SO READY FOR IT.

I hope you're all doing well. If you're not, then I hope you get better. Remember that every situation eventually changes because we live in a dynamic universe. Thinking about nice things helps a lot sometimes.

Love, 

Nan.

Some Old Poems

Hello, humans. I found a few poems that I wrote when I was in eighth grade for an assignment and I wanted to share them with you. Hope you like them.

*****

January Day

The wind moves the trees

Its leaves like a thousand butterflies

Flying for the first time

The green grass grows

Too slowly to be seen

Waiting to be cut again

The azure sky looks calm

Like the sea in a summer day

No waves, no ships, no movement

The clouds cry a thousand little tears

That fall down to give life to the trees

The grass thanks the sky for its rain

*****

Bliss

I open my eyes and see the sky

I stand up and start walking

Realization grows in me and confusion leaves

I remember this place

My heart leaps where it sits

My feet want to run as fast as they can

Happy tears fill my eyes

This feeling, it’s stronger than before

I’m no longer who I used to be

I let go of what I had and what I was

I now know I can’t feel bad or sad

For I am finally where I’ve always wanted to be

*****

25 and a day

25 and a day

Day of the great fail

I haven’t been here since May

And then the bake sale

Hair bouncing up and down

A high jump and a score

I feel I’m going to drown

October one plus twenty-four

Nobody said it was easy

Always there in my mind

Always feeling this uneasy

With nothing new for me to find

Three years have gone by

And still here I lie

           

*****

I’m sorry because I haven’t posted anything in a while. I’ve been extremely busy (and kind of still am). The work ain’t gonna do itself haha. Also, I don’t like posting most of the things that I write (yikes). However, I’ve got many ideas and I’m thinking about maybe posting a poem. Let’s see if I’m bold enough.

Love,

Nan.