Romance By: Maggie
Romance is the person who left the ruby red rose on your doorstep. Romance is the person walking at a brisk pace when meeting another. Romance is the person that kisses a girl's hand then walks slowly, patiently, longingly away. Romance is the boy who won't leave you alone. Romance lives in a little white house with red trim. He/She keeps a soulmate for everyone who's not afraid to lose a bit of independence. Romance is the girl waiting solemnly while eating a box of chocolates and watching Little Women over and over and over. Romance is that dog-like brother who follows his girlfriend's every move until the perfect time to go down on one knee. Romance is the hand-written note in your mailbox. Romance is the boy in every girl's dreams. Romance is the man you never knew you loved. Romance is the candlelight dinner from your dad to your mom. Romance is the small and beautiful diamond ring your fiance slips onto your finger at the wedding. Romance is the kind of person you could imagine as a knight in the medieval period. Romance is the man who would take a bullet for the woman he loves. Romance is the graceful, beautiful, swan-like girl you met at senior prom. Romance is the thought that pops into your head when you find the one. Romance is the girl who giggles when her friend teases her about her crush. Romance is the quarterback who wishes his girlfriend would like him for him and not his position on the team. Romance is the businessman who falls in love with his partner. Romance are the characters in a show you know need to fall in love. Romance is the windswept woman who's laughing in the rain.
Rosie's Sweet Shoppe By: Maggie
I am sitting in my Grandmother's cherry red car, pulling into the parking lot outside of my favorite place, a little candy shop in downtown Tehachapi, California. I enter and take my rightful place behind the counter. I glance away from the counter and ogle at the colossal barrels of saltwater taffy sitting in the corners. I watch the luminous cardboard cutouts for any distinct sign of movement. My eyes search the aisles of sweets, and I hear their bubbly voices beckoning me towards them. I can hear the musical chime of the bell that announces the arrival of each and every customer. I can hear my grandmother's twitter of a voice soaring through the air to tell me for the thousandth time that I'm her lucky charm. Then I hear the musical hum of conversation between customer and owner. I taste the nectarous chocolate of a kinder egg as my thoughts dwell on the surprise inside. I also sample a toothsome packet of Razzles, as they hit my tongue, I start to glisten with pleasure. I also savor a nibble of divine candy as if it's my last. I now understand that this small sweet shoppe in the middle of a small town is my favorite place to be.
I Am From By: Maggie
I am from the bookshelf stocked with adventure and romance and everything in between.
I am from the little picturesque house on Monroe.
I am from the little closet of a room that holds my memories captive.
I am from a small and deathly silent college town.
I am from the black and white pages of the books that keep their stories alive.
I am from the ground that ties me to my ancestors roots deep, deep, deep underground.
I am from the landscape green and lush.
I am from a family woven close together like a quilt.
I am the quaint little doll on the 'sill.
I am from the city bustling busy city.
I am from the first day at a new school anxious, afraid, and sorrowful.
I am from the day I came 'til the day I leave.
I am from, I am from.
