WinterWinterCold, bitterPainful, beautiful, enjoyableWinter's my favourite season.White
SeasonsSpring has already sprung.Summer has already come.Autumn has already fallen.And now Winter's not far from..
Soldiers in the rainI watch the rain fall; like tiny waterfalls down my window.I think to myself how far they must travel, like tiny soldiers coming home from a battle.Their tired trails leak down before my eye, it's so beautiful I almost cry.I wonder what happens when they reach the ground; those poor tiny soldiers are never found.Soak up be the wet and hungry ground to start the cycle again, round and around.Those poor tiny soldiers are sucked up so quickly: they barley have time to put up a fight. I think how afraid I would be if I were them, now I start to cry; for real this time.Now I know how they feel, as I watch my own rain fall down from my eyes, like the tiny waterfalls that are happening outside.
The BoxThe house was calm and quiet, as the man walked through the old oak door. The man had finished work early and was returning home in high hope that his wife had made dinner. But when he walked through the house the man smelt no turkey, no potatoes or soup, no chowder, no bread, no steak. The man smelt no dinner, "maybe she had a tiring day, and is sewing in her room, I'll just go to my study and wait till she's ready." The man thought calmly to himself.Then the man walked slowly through the old house, up the stairs and down the hall which lead to his study. As the man entered his study he smiled, he just loved the way the room always smelt like cinnamon and maple, the way the light shone through the window and illuminated the bookcases and the way he felt at peace with himself as he entered the room.When the man sat down at his desk, he noticed the little black box that was still sitting on his desk. "Good, it seems that she hasn't noticed the box yet!" The man said to himself merrily