This is my 5th public submission for Creativity Boot Camp. The instructions for today are to get back down to the basics of your art -- pare your work down to an elementary form. So I took that quite literally, and decided to write a children's story. Elementary, my dear. (And it just happened to flow into a sort of poem. You never know what'll happen when you start writing, eh?!).
Also, my friend, Emily, and I have been in an online writing group together for a few months, and we're looking for some more wirters to join us! Our numbers have dwindled recently due to general busyness and summer lulls, and we're hoping to add some new members. If you're interested, we'll be submitting writing on a monthly basis, and trading feedback as needed. We'd love to have you! Email me for more details or if you'd like to be part of our writing group!
There once was a small little girl --
a fabulous, small little girl --
who lived up high on a hill in a rickety house.
Each morning, she woke up to clean,
each noontime she cooked up a storm.
She worked so hard that by night she was very worn out.
It happened on one winter night --
a drafty and cold winter night --
The small little girl did wish on a twinkling star.
She'd had quite enough of the work --
her days were too busy to dream --
So she asked the star to grant her this wish from afar:
'I wish that I may, I wish that I might',
she spoke in her sweet little voice,
'Find something pleasing about my boring work.'
For she wasn't a greedy girl,
she didn't need much for herself.
Her only wish was to see the good in the world.
She fell into bed on that night
weary and tired to the bone.
She only wanted her wish to be made true.
The small little girl was so hopeful --
sweetly, innocently hopeful --
that she slept so soundly she woke up feeling quite new.
She rushed to the window to see
the beauty she thought would be there,
But it was just the same old mountainside.
Shaking her head to clear the dreams,
she muttered some doubts to herself.
'I guess the wish just wasn't meant to be mine.'
'I'll go 'bout my day as usual,
and get the work done like I should,
and maybe something will change along the way.'
Her day started in the kitchen --
always the boring old kitchen --
setting out a warm meal to fuel her busy day.
And there she finally saw it --
the beauty in a simple thing:
a drizzle of honey atop her morning porridge.
It gleamed with the brightness of sun,
and melted to a golden pool.
The small little girl thought it could light a village.
So lovely a drizzle it was,
so gleaming and pleasant to see,
the girl got carried away with her honey that day.
She drizzled and drizzled again,
filling bowl after golden bowl,
Just to see the way the honey played.
And she didn't even mind that --
when it came time to do dishes --
her sink was full of sticky, honeyed bowls.
She was only so very glad --
so sweetly, innocently glad --
that she'd found beauty in a thing quite normal.
She knew it wouldn't be fleeting.
She vowed to look deeper each day,
and each day her expectant eyes were pleased.
For once there'd been chores she'd dreaded --
and oh, how she'd dreaded them then --
but now she was surrounded by beautiful things.
Her selfless wish had been granted --
the wishing star's power was true.
(At least that's what the small little girl assumed.)
In truth, it was only her heart --
the heart that was pleased with drizzle --
which had opened itself like a dazzlingly beautiful bloom.
She saw a world full of beauty,
she saw things to love, everywhere --
alone up high on a hill in a rickety house.