King Arthur Chasing Zebras In An Abandoned Garage

So for my English class, we had to write a poem based on an image from a dream we have had. I think you might be interested as to what I wrote.

King Arthur Chasing Zebras In an Abandoned Garage

As I closed my eyes

I found them reopened with a surprise

I stood before a great king

But he was doing the most odd thing

It was the great Arthur and his knights

But that’s not what gave me frights 

You see they were chasing zebras

I felt the need to quickly flee the area

But no, that's not all

There was more to this great brawl

For a dream as weird as this

There’s one more detail you can’t miss

Of course, where else would we be but in a garage

All I wanted to do was escape this mirage

Lo, for this was not just any garage but it was abandoned

Each of the knights moved in tandem

Not another soul but these in sight

I decided this just might be an interesting night

Honestly, this has to be the best poem I’ve ever written

Wattpad Stories

These are the links to my stories on Wattpad (It's an app). If you get the time I would love for you to read them and vote, the more the merrier!

Three Clans Three Heroes- https://my.w.tt/kDhaCBEF6Y
This story is about three young adults from three rivaling clans who decide that friendship overpowers hate, and it's up to them to bring the kingdoms together!

Excalibur- https://my.w.tt/r2nHCLMF6Y
This is a story based on the legend of the ancient King Arthur, so if you aren't familiar with that legend you might not entirely understand what's going on. If you have read the Arthurian Legend, I'm sure you'll enjoy it!

A Mentor's Struggle- https://my.w.tt/pACvArOoNZ
Sure, you've heard the countless tales of apprentice after apprentice learning a new skill, but what if there is a story from the mentor's point of view? Sir Benedict of Sirona is the royal court physician and the second in command of the king's knights. when Benedict found out he's grievously ill and has a whole different identity he never knew about, it's up to him which secrets to tell his friends, and which ones he should struggle with alone.

Excalibur

I drew Excalibur from its sheath shakily, knowing I wasn’t worthy of gazing on such a sacred artifact. The gold around the hilt danced with swirls and gems, covered in diamonds. The sunlight hit each jewel perfectly, causing an array of colors sketched across the walls and windows of the room. The steel was like iron, and any story or scroll I had ever read over King Arthur was wrong. This sword was beyond description. From the iron hard steel to the extravagant tunes that danced from the hilt to the edge of each blade. I noticed the faint red tint to the sword, and I told the stories of each man that had died by this weapon. I could practically see each Saxon he had killed, standing in front of me with a stone cold gaze as the sword plunged deeply through their chest, the blood draining onto the polished steel of Excalibur. I looked at the sword once more, admiring the runes and the ancient language, desperate to know what they spoke of. I yearned to know the hidden message, perhaps it told of the sword’s fabled origins, or perhaps it was the name of each man that had wielded such a masterpiece. In that moment, I knew what was required of me. I walked out of my door and closed it behind me, staring at the shimmering lake in front of me. The lake spread for miles and miles, for I couldn’t dream of ever seeing where it ended. Just barely in my view, I could see the faint outline of an island that had remained undisturbed for centuries, nay, eons. Avalon. The familiar sight of the ancient, yet magical land warmed my heart as if it were on fire. I looked down to my hand, which was currently wrapped tightly around the hilt of Excalibur. I let out a deep breath, watching in fascination as it turned to mist in the air. Majestically, I lifted my arm as high as it would go, plunging the sword into the sunlight. Every angle of the sword was wrapped warmly in the sun’s embrace and I never wanted it to end, sensing the urgency of the moment. I knew I could no longer procrastinate and prolong this endless moment any further, so I gently drew my arm back as if to throw the sword, much like a pitcher would during a baseball game. With all the might I could muster within myself, I threw the sword with unmatchable force towards the water. Just before it hit the glimmering, enchanting waves, a small arm shot into the air, an ivory foresleeve only just visible from my stance. The Lady of the Lake. I smiled, my mouth soon dropping in awe as the sword landed perfectly in her grasp before sinking back towards the mysterious depths of the enchanted lake. For a second, and only that, I dreamt I had kept the sword. I longed to practice with it, to have my names written in the books. I wished to swing it to and fro, threateningly towards my enemies. My mind carried me to an alternative universe, full of war and bloodshed. I stood in the heat of battle, sweat drenching my face as I relaxed the death grip I had on my dagger. I man raced at me, but with a simple twist of my wrist, I flew to a small area of his gut that remained vulnerable and endangered himself to my weapon. I sunk in with a sickening thud. I wearily drew it from his carcass and wiped the blood off on my shirt. Unprepared, I was glued back into my sad reality, staring at the lake that now held the legendary sword, Excalibur.

Solitude

Solitude

By Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;

    Weep, and you weep alone;

For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,

    But has trouble enough of its own.

Sing, and the hills will answer;

    Sigh, it is lost on the air;

The echoes bound to a joyful sound,

    But shrink from voicing care.

Rejoice, and men will seek you;

    Grieve, and they turn and go;

They want full measure of all your pleasure,

    But they do not need your woe.

Be glad, and your friends are many;

    Be sad, and you lose them all,

There are none to decline your nectared wine,

    But alone you must drink life's gall.

Feast, and your halls are crowded;

    Fast, and the world goes by.

Succeed and give, and it helps you live,

    But no man can help you die.

There is room in the halls of pleasure

    For a large and lordly train,

But one by one we must all file on

    Through the narrow aisles of pain.

Source: https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/solitude-by-ella-wheeler-wilcox

Encouraging Writing Quotes

I hate writing, I love having written

-Dorothy Parker

Write what should not be forgotten

-Isabel Allende

If I waited till I felt like writing, I'd never write at all! 

-Anne Tyler

You will fail. It's inevitable. Its what you do with it.

-J.K. Rowling

There is something delicious about writing the first words of a story. You never quite know where they'll take you.

-Beatrix Potter

Writing is easy. All you have to do is mark out the wrong words.

-Mark Twain

Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.

-Anton Chekhov

If you want to change the world, pick up your pen and write.

-Martin Luther

Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.

-Benjamin Franklin

I write better than I talk.

-GeniusQuotes.org

You can make anything by writing.

C.S. Lewis

The Fastest

She is the fastest.
There's no doubt in my mind.

She is like lightning, 
and beats record time!

She prowls the lone plain, 
The desert heeds her call.
She kills to eat, not in vain.
On sight, animals run, big and small.

She sinks low to the grass,
her prey is oblivious.
The idea of her presence,
would seem preposterous!

Her spots and flecks
hide her at her worst.
Catching her prey,
she easily breaks their necks.

Her speed unmatchable
Competition is impossible.
She eats zebra & gazelle
just look at her eyes and they will tell.

Tiger's Camoflauge

 Tiger's Camouflage
so very cunningly hidden.
fierce and courageous


At our sight,
he is overcome with strife.
The forest is his home
the jungle brings him life.
He roams the unknown.

A loner he will remain.
Stories of him age with time, 
He will never leave his domain. 

His stripes make him,
they protect and provide.
His stripes bring fear and sharpen whim.
They cover his body wide.

He treasures his home.
His paws shake the earth.
His heart remains wild,
his secrets continue unknown

- Adalynn Koch (me)