Megan+Be+Poetic+Writing

 toc **22/10/09**



My Grandad
A small grey car bumps across the uneven paddock headed for the workshop in the far corner. As my Grandad opens the rusty door of the old shed the familiar and almost off-putting workshop smell hits him, but he doesn’t seem to notice it. Looking back over his broad shoulder at the farm he used to own, he waves to his son and starts addressing the newest problem with the machinery that he came to help my dad fix. Wisps of curly grey hair poke out from under the fading brown sun hat he always wears. Deep wrinkles cover his aging face, which is dark from many years of working on the family farm. As he listens to me blabber on about the latest dramas in my life, his old mouth repeats what I am saying silently, as he attempts to understand my excited chatter. Sitting in the spotless house you can hear the tuneful music slowly drift down the stairs as my Grandad quietly practices his piano accordion. His sparkling blue eyes look unfocused and his concentration seems to be somewhere else entirely, but every note comes out perfectly, which surprises the attentive listeners down stairs because as usual no music is used. Every morning my Grandad goes for a brisk walk, forgetting his aching body he speeds along at a pace that could easily be considered a jog. On this walk my Grandad seems to find useful things that are invisible to the normal eye. So as well as the daily paper he left originally for, he arrives home with a collection of forgotten coins, or an old bracelet or maybe even a ring for his wife. His strong hands hold the piece of wood steady as he carefully cuts it. These wrinkled hands are skilful from hours spent in his small work shop, either creating this year’s family Christmas presents or fixing the old umbrella which he found earlier that morning on his daily walk. Nothing is ever ready to be thrown away, to my Grandad everything will one day have its uses. Even an old piece of farm machinery which to anyone else is broken beyond repair and ready to be thrown out, miraculously and to everyone’s surprise he manages to fix it. To myself and my family, my Grandad is a very talented man and seems to be able to turn his hand to anything and succeed at it. Whether it is playing his piano accordion at family celebrations, or fixing the handle of the old knife mum broke, or helping Dad build the new tractor shed at the farm, or even just driving me to a soccer practice. He always finds a way to put his talents to use to help us.

Megan Bethell



Bent trees tower threateningly above the dark widey path, like frail old men they clump together, leaning on each other for support. Small plants cower close to their dark trunks as though they are scared to move further away.

A thick, dark mist looms over everything, taking the light and happiness away with it, dark shadows hang, suspended by nothing, and like spooky ghosts, they appear almost human shaped. Blurry from the fog, the next bend of the path sits far-away in the distance, looking almost unreachable. From above, the trail looks like a snake, worming it was through the trees.

Up above, shadowy leaves bunch close together as they attempt to block the sunlight from reaching the path below. They whisper in their own language as the wind blows through the branches, rustling their dark leaves. The ground below is covered in the dried, dead leaves, which have long ago fallen from the tall spooky trees.



Selfishness
Selfishness is the daughter of stubborn, and a cousin of A [|rrogance] . Stubborn is a young girl who has only just turned six. Being a spoilt only child she is used to getting every that she wants, and everything done the way she wants it. She has picked up her mother’s trait so once she has her mind set on something, nothing or no one will be able to change it. Selfishness has brilliant big blue eyes, blonde wavy hair and a little stubby nose. Her smile is adorable and can make even the most inflexible of people let her have her way. To finish off the angelic look Selfishness usually wears a little frilly pink frock. She knows how adorable she looks and she knows that these looks make people believe that she really is innocent. Because of how proud she is of her features, Selfishness always walks with her head held high. A large apartment on the top story of a building is where Selfishness lives with her mother. They have no pets and Selfishness’ father doesn’t live with them (he found both of them too hard to get on with) so they live alone. Toys are messily scattered around Selfishness’ massive room. Her double bed is always unmade. Designer clothes spill out of her wardrobe, many with price tags still attached. Her T.V is often left on and the door to her private bathroom is frequently open. There are only a few people who like Selfishness, most people think of her as a self centered person who thinks of no one but herself. Her best and only friend is [|Vanity] . Although most people dislike her, she has two only two real enemies. These are [|Generosity]  and Selflessness both of these two people cannot understand how she can be so self centred and not care about the people around her. At school, Selfishness is a star pupil and all the teachers love her. They do not see what a horrible person she is beneath the angelic surface. She isn’t involved in anything, she just does what she has to and no more. She is always on the outside looking in. A lot of Selfishness’ time is spent shopping. Money is never an issue, her mother is more than happy to spoilt her daughter with whatever she desires. Gymnastics is another of Selfishness’ hobbies, she struggles to listen to her coaches because she thinks she is knows better than them. Although she is very difficult to work with, they still keep trying because they can see that Selfishness has a talent. Selfishness cannot help you in life, she makes you a horrible person and someone who has no friends. Unfortunately too many people have let Selfishness into their life, these people take no time to consider others but go right ahead and do things that will only benefit themselves.