A bright blue butterfly is flying by.

It’s amazing how high a butterfly can fly.

They live a life of beauty and grace.

Flying through a wonderful place.

They live their life and push through.

Pollinating the flowers like they were made to do.

With that big fly     

It's like a wish to die. 

How do they stay alive?

It’s just the life of a butterfly.

At the end of all lives, something or someone dies.

 

                                                       The Wolf has gray fur.

                                                    The wolves’ appetite is deer.

                                                   All wolves can hear 10 miles far.  

 

When it is time  to rhyme, I look around the room. 

 On the wall I see a picture of a girl with a brown tipped broom.

 I take a pad of paper,

 I take a pencil too.

 The pencil sweeps across the paper

 like a magic wand creating words.

 I write about what the broom looks like,

 and what the broom will do.

 I close my eyes and imagine

 and I’m sure that you can too.

 

My new movie I had starred in, The Wonderful World, had finally entered the theaters. I was relieved when the announcement had been made and we had gotten our pay. The Eastern Acting theater, of which we performed in, smelled like dust and rubber. I always worked better when it smelled of the outdoors, and if not of the outdoors then I preferred the smell of popcorn. 

I opened the door feeling happy to soon be out of the crowd but when I did so, I didn’t feel the autumn wind in my curly black hair. Cameras flashed in my blue eyes and there was a bigger crowd than I expected. 

“So Armana, what did it feel like to star as Milla in, The Wonderful world? Did you feel as adventures as you looked?” asked the news reporter, Debby Watmen. She had on a purple leather jacket and her pink flower hat sat on top of her  curly brown shoulder length hair. I knew her like the back of my hand. 

My new movie I had starred in, The Wonderful World, had finally entered the theaters. I was relieved when the announcement had been made and we had gotten our pay. The Eastern Acting theater, of which we performed in, smelled like dust and rubber. I always worked better when it smelled of the outdoors, and if not of the outdoors then I preferred the smell of popcorn. 

I opened the door feeling happy to soon be out of the crowd but when I did so, I didn’t feel the autumn wind in my curly black hair. Cameras flashed in my blue eyes and there was a bigger crowd than I expected. 

“So Armana, what did it feel like to star as Milla in, The Wonderful world? Did you feel as adventures as you looked?” asked the news reporter, Debby Watmen. She had on a purple leather jacket and her pink flower hat sat on top of her  curly brown shoulder length hair. I knew her like the back of my hand. 

I see a cactus.

Tall, green and very spiky.

Living in the sun.
 

The Snowflakes drift down,

Landing on the frozen ground,

Everything turns white.

 

The summer pine tree.

Brown and green, it looks at me.

With those pleasant leaves.

 

Oaks glide through the wind. 

Oaks shimmer in the moonlight.

Oak leaves fall like snow. 

 

         Hi, I am human.

Martians are dumb, I’m not one

     Bye, fellow human.