the giant tortoise

This is the blog of Charisa, Pianist, Poet, Actress. Herein my poetry, tempests, exultations, tears and laughter are recorded upon glorious inspiration.

talk to me at dreambig16@hotmail.com

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She is red, vibrant, Pulsing to be seen, To be held and caressed. She is a petal releasing fragrance - Deep, scarlet scent; Will he notice? Will he be pleased? Oh agony! He breathes the air straight from her lungs. She is wilting - yet wills him deeper still, to uphold her crumbling strength. He is a god! A golden god. Her soul is bruised with his beauty.

Monday, August 01, 2005

My dad set up a volleyball net in our back yard, and we've been having volleyball parties on Sundays. I like playing volleyball, but heavens I am so bad at it, it's more funny than humiliating. Though it is a little of that too. Last night we just practiced setting and spiking and serving the ball. I do believe I actually improved a little! Instead of completely misjudging where the ball is going, I began to make contact with it - and started sending it way behind my head. I think if I played standing backwards I would be much more successful in getting the ball over the net and not into the rose garden.

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