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Dancing Home

A child's fingertips dance lightly over the blades of grass, tickling her skin and creating small tremors which run through her small hands. Tiny feet, not burdened by the many troubles and cares the world places upon young impressionable minds, lift off the ground in delight of her freedom. The scent of the rolling hills, enlightens her spirit, and the glow of the sun warms her heart as she basks in its glory. Memories of the past and thoughts of what could be, flash momentarily in her mind before vanishing into the bliss of the day.

Skipping with joy over the lush emerald mounds, she sings a tune in merriment, uncaring of whoever may happen to be listening. The innocent words, belted out at the top of her lungs, sound perfect and sweet to her. A tumble and roll bring forth bursts of laughter from her lips, leaving behind stains and bruises in remembrance of her short journey down the hills. Her eyes sparkling with excitement of the continuing endeavor, which allows her spirit to embrace the whole of her passing childhood, dance with her feet in the fields.

Azure orbs stare with wonder at the expanse above, as she lies on her back upon the soft grass. A rabbit, a ship, and a plane pass overhead; the mystical relationship of water and air, sculpting its masterpieces in the sky, only last for but a few passing moments. Voices floating through the air and playing in her ears, are welcoming sounds; the voice of the wind, grass, and creatures about her, each playing a part in the larger symphony of creation. They call to her, a past and future, to the place her head lay to rest. The home, to which her family is summoning her and home she will return, until the voices fall silent on the other side of the world and the day begins anew. The sun slowly sinks below the horizon, ending the beauty of the day, which had slowly came to a close.
©2008-2009 =CrimsonThrenody
:iconcrimsonthrenody:

Author's Comments

I removed the second piece here, as I am rewriting it and rewrote the first. I think they should be separated at this point into two separate deviations.

Dancing Home:

The hills were green. The girl played in them. The grass was thick. Her feet were bare. The sun was bright. There were clouds. She could see her house. She thought of her life. She thought of the past, and the future.

Edited: 2/19/08. I reworked it slightly and lengthened it a bit. Fixed up some quirky tenses and what not.

Comments


love 1 1 joy 0 0 wow 0 0 mad 0 0 sad 0 0 fear 0 0 neutral 0 0
:iconpetertbexley:
I like both of the pieces - well written. I just have one observation - you evoke visual and sound senses but very little touch so these images are quite cerebral. Sometimes a hint of touch would give a little extra to the mental pictures.

--
The light of the body is the eye
:iconneftoon-zamora:
Wow, your talent for description just blew me away. I am in love with the first piece. It is so uplifting and magical in description that it really touches me.

--
I know that never in the world
Could I have found me such a girl
Who's there to pick me up before I fall

~Mike Nesmith~
:iconknifeeven:
'To Home' is good, but 'Distant Memory' is awe-inspiring. It really seemed like you had experienced this first-hand, and wrote the description later. I don't know what else to say, I'm kind of dumbstruck by how good it is.
:iconcrimsonthrenody:
I actually experienced a flood once, even if distantly. Yet, I remember watching the news about it when I was younger (was only 6 at the time it happened).

They will be up for revision, as not much as been done to them in terms of second edits ^.~ lol

Thanks :D

--
:heart:Words are my paint, and the pen is my brush:heart:

~ *getLIT ~*WordCount ~ *Adopt-A-Writer ~ *Writers-Workshop ~
:iconcrimsonthrenody:
I have to agree. I had planned on going through them again soon, so I will definitely keep an eye out on how to incorporate touch. Though, the second one was written from more of a 3rd party's view than a first hand experience, so touch wouldn't really apply too well there.

--
:heart:Words are my paint, and the pen is my brush:heart:

~ *getLIT ~*WordCount ~ *Adopt-A-Writer ~ *Writers-Workshop ~
:iconcrimsonthrenody:
Hehe, thanks hun!

I am thinking of giving the first one more, and making a few edits to the second. We shall see how they go ^.^

--
:heart:Words are my paint, and the pen is my brush:heart:

~ *getLIT ~*WordCount ~ *Adopt-A-Writer ~ *Writers-Workshop ~
:iconknifeeven:
No really - I can't convey how good 'Distant Memory' is. I'm extremely impressed. And a little intimidated. :D
:iconneftoon-zamora:
I really got lost in the first, I would love to see you expand it.

--
I know that never in the world
Could I have found me such a girl
Who's there to pick me up before I fall

~Mike Nesmith~
:iconcrimsonthrenody:
>.> I am glad you like. Took me forever to build up the courage to work on it, I don't know why. Kinda feeling a bit slacked with my abilities as of late.

The encouragement is well received. :)

--
:heart:Words are my paint, and the pen is my brush:heart:

~ *getLIT ~*WordCount ~ *Adopt-A-Writer ~ *Writers-Workshop ~
:iconcrimsonthrenody:
It was meant to mostly be a play on the senses, no real storyline attached

--
:heart:Words are my paint, and the pen is my brush:heart:

~ *getLIT ~*WordCount ~ *Adopt-A-Writer ~ *Writers-Workshop ~

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January 31, 2008
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