The Sky and the Roses

The Little Watson Girl's Dreams on Paper

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire October 23, 2009

Filed under: Creative Writing Assignments — lilwatsongirl @ 7:18 pm

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire


Our young Harry Potter is now fourteen

And thrice he has faced Mr. Voldemort mean

He’s going back to Hogwarts to learn some more stuff

But he doesn’t know that this year will be tough


At the start of term feast, the headmaster smiles

“We will be hosting two schools for a while.

They are called Durmstrang, from the far north,

And Beauxbaton too will also come forth.”


Two sets of new students? Yep, sure enough.

But they’re not the reason life will be tough.

There’s to be a tournament, the first one in years

The news sends the crowd wild with cheers


There will be three tasks, which three students will face

One student from each school will take the hard place.

The infamous judge, the goblet of fire

Will select the students to face the tasks dire


You must be seventeen to put in your name

But Harry of course is known for his fame

When his name comes out, they call him a cheat

The new teacher, Moody, says it would be a feat


He says it’s not possible that such a young boy

Could trick the smart goblet, and a fourth school employ

Now three students are picked, along with our hero

Krum, a player of Quidditch, and Fleur who’s no zero


The other champion was really quite cool

He was also from Dumbledore’s school

He’s a popular boy, and was glad to be picked

He’s known by the simple name of Cedric


The tournament begins, and the very first task

Involves a dragon that they have to get past

Harry flies on a broom, makes the dragon’s head spin

And he gets his gold egg: not a pass, but a win


The other three champions all got their eggs too

But some, like miss Fleur, lost points not a few

Now comes the next task; they all want to win it

First they must open their egg and get the message within it

The egg opens easily, the message: just noise

It makes no sense, so brains Harry employs

When you go under water, open the egg there

The message comes out, clearer than air.


It tells our hero, through mermaid song

That they’ve taken his friend, his bestie, Ron

He’s being held captive, at the bottom of a lake

If Harry’s not fast, his life they will take


The task comes along and Harry is scared

He has no idea how to survive without air

He must go underwater, for a whole hour

He must bring back Ron, and prove his great valor


But a friend comes along, Dobby, the elf

He gives Harry a plant that he stole from a shelf

It’s called Gillyweed, and Harry must eat it

If he’s to survive the task and defeat it


Harry chews it up fast and steps into the lake

And to his surprise, he sprouts fins in his wake

Putting a hand to his throat, he finds something else too

He has slits in his neck, gills that are new


Our hero is pleased and he swims quickly along

Breathing real easy, till he hears mermaid song

He follows the noise, finds Ron asleep and tied to a post

But his other friend, Hermione surprises him most


She is there too, what can Harry do?

The mermaids won’t let him take her back up, too

Four people are down there, tied down to four posts

Harry’s friends, and two girls, pale as ghosts


Suddenly, Krum turns up on the scene

Hermione’s his girlfriend, don’t you see.

And Cedric comes, and takes one of the girls

Harry is left with the small girl with pale curls


If she doesn’t get out, he’s sure that she’ll die

What’s he to do?  He grabs her and flies

He gets to the surface, gasping for air

Puzzled, he finds that his gills aren’t there



He’s outside the time limit, he came back too late

But ‘cuz he was brave, tons of points he still made

The eggs frightening message, he discovered, was fake

His friends wouldn’t die, they would simply awake


The third task now looms far ahead in his mind

It’s not for a while, but preparing takes time

His favorite class is the one Moody teaches

He learns some good spells, and about dangerous creatures


The third task is a maze, and it’s coming up quick

If he’s going to get through, He’ll have to be slick

There are hazardous things, dangers galore

First one to the trophy will get a full score


In the heart of the maze, Harry is told

The Triwizard cup stands, shiny and bold

The first wizard to grab it is the one who will win

The shrill whistle blows and the four hurry in


On he goes, rushing, near the wall like a blur

When to his shock, he discovers miss Fleur

She is unconscious, Harry prays she’s not dead

He sends up some sparks in the help color: red


Harry finds Cedric, who has not so well fared.

“I was attacked by that Krum!” Cedric declares

“I don’t know what he means, he’s usually so nice!

I left him back there.  He’s knocked out if I’m right”


They go on together, both slightly afraid

And find the gold cup by the last light of day

Together, the boys, the cup they both grab

But shocked, they are pulled to a place dark and drab


They are in a graveyard

A voice breaks the night

“Kill the spare”

Then a flash of green light

And Cedric falls

Never to move again


Harry is shocked.

Too shocked to struggle

When he is tied by a hooded figure

To a headstone

There is a black cauldron

The hooded figure drops a bundle into it

Then the worst thing happens

Voldemort reappears


What does it take

To get rid of this guy??

Harry is cut free

And Voldemort tries to kill him

(Yet again)

But a bond between the brother wands

Stops him

And saves Harry

Harry sees everyone Voldemort ever killed

Cedric, his Mum, his Dad

Then the brother wands seem to take over

And Voldemort falls

But he, unlike Cedric

Will get up again

Harry grabs Cedric’s body

And runs

He grabs the Triwizard cup again

Praying it will take him back

And it does.


Triumphant the Hero returns once again

But this time he brings back the shell of a friend

Cedric was gone, and the whole school mourned

While Voldemort was returned back to full form


Harry goes home, quite the worse for the wear

And all through the summer he thinks it’s not fair

What will happen next year, when Harry’s fifteen?

Will he fall like young Cedric, in a flash of bright green?


Another song

Filed under: Other stuff,Uncategorized — lilwatsongirl @ 12:00 pm

This is Jon Schmidt (for all you pianists) playing a song that I personally think is the most beautiful song on the face of this planet.  Its a remix of Love Story and Viva La Vida (by coldplay) that he wrote himself.  It was so beautiful that I almost cried.  (Jon Schmidt always makes me cry… :)

Well, here it is!

Enjoy!!!  <3



My thoughts on “Direct Contact Seasoning the Media Arts” October 21, 2009

Filed under: Reading Responses — lilwatsongirl @ 9:54 pm

               booksIn Melody Green’s article “Direct Contact Seasoning the Media Arts”, she expressed the view that modern media has become corrupted at the roots.  I agree with her on several of her points. The media is having some serious problems, but is it really entirely corrupted?  While reading her article, I thought of the amount of time I spend listening to music, reading books, watching movies, and reading poetry.  The things I listen to, watch and read are all good things, and I can’t spend the amount of time that I do endorsing good, uplifting media, and still say that the root of all media has gone bad.

            There is, however, an awful lot of really bad media out there.  It is sometimes difficult to go to the movie theatre, when you don’t know if what you’re going to be watching will be clean or not.  My family cut the wires to our television cable, because it was no longer worth it to have television anymore.  The ratio of good stuff to bad stuff was about 1:3, and it was getting ridiculous.  The devil has insanely strong power, and he gets into people’s minds and corrupts them, making them think that inappropriate things are ok.   It is the people who are corrupted, not the root of the media.

            God gave us music so that we could praise him.  He wouldn’t let our best method of glorifying him become entirely corrupted.  Music can lift us up, and bring us closer to the Lord, and it can help us grow.  When I’m stressed out, my release is in music.  When I’m really happy, I show it by singing.  When I’m sad, music helps me get over it.

            Unfortunately, in our day, the corrupted generation has taken God’s gift to us, and twisted it.  There is music out there that will drag you down, and take the Holy Spirit away from you.  There are songs out there that will pollute your thoughts and your mind, and as the lyrics play in your head, you may find that any bad language in them finds its way out of your mouth.  Once you are ok with listening to those words, then it’s only a step away from being ok with saying them.  This is called “Desensitizing”.  It is one of the devil’s most subtle and dangerous tools.  Little by little he blackens our thoughts and damages our spirits, so subtly that you sometimes don’t even notice.  This is why it is so, so important that we stay as far as possible from the bad media, and keep to the good media.

            Another thing Melody Green discusses in her article is that “Art is not Abstract”.  She says that an artist puts his morals and his values into everything that he does, whether he is writing, drawing or singing.  I agree with this.  When I create something, that is usually my goal, to put myself into it, or to get an idea across to my readers, listeners, or whatever the case may be.  This does not, however, mean that if someone is a good person, that all of their media will be clean and good.  The opposite is also true.  Just because a person does not have the same standards as you does not necessarily mean that they will not be able to create art on your standard level.  There are many examples of this in history, Julius Caesar, for example, was a dreadful person, but he did some amazing things.  There are modern examples of the same thing.  For example, Martin Luther King Junior was not a good person in his private life, but he wrote an amazing speech that inspired thousands of people to do some very good things.  The Lord can use wicked people to bring good things to pass.

            Think of your favorite book.  What do you think of when that book comes to mind?  How does the thought of that book make you feel?  Why is it your favorite book?  Would you consider that book a good contribution to the media?

            Now consider the author of that book.  (You don’t need to actually know who it is.)  Are they perfect?  No.

            Consider the book again.  Is it perfect?  Are the characters perfect?  Probably not.  A flawless book, with flawless people wouldn’t makcdse for a very good read.

            Media is flawed, and has been twisted by the devil in some places, but it is still one of God’s most beautiful and glorious gifts to us.


A song that has inspired much of my writing

Filed under: Other stuff — lilwatsongirl @ 8:08 pm

Just a cute, clean song and clean, G-rated music video about Romeo and Juliet.  This is my favorite story of all time, and my favorite song of all time, and certain lines in this song have inspired whole novels, and poems ect.

This song is one that probably a lot of you (especially you girls) probably already know.  For those who don’t, this is “Love story” by Taylor Swift.   Boys, sorry but this really is a girly song and music video =)



Brer Rabbit

Filed under: Reading Responses — lilwatsongirl @ 2:57 pm

            I think we can all relate to Brer Rabbit at some point, in at least one of his stories.  Usually what happens in that Brer Rabbit does something not very smart and ends up getting into trouble.  At that point, along comes Brer Fox, trying to cause him even more trouble.  In the story in which Brer Rabbit falls into a well, he got there because he was trying to get out of work.  When, as is expected, Brer Fox comes along, he wants to cause Brer Rabbit trouble, as always.  He thinks Brer Rabbit has gold down at the bottom of the well, which shows that he is giving Brer Rabbit way too much credit.

            We all do the things that Brer Fox and Brer Rabbit do, (if not those exact things, similar things) and we all like stories with characters that we can relate to.  All of us make stupid mistakes, and we all end up in uncomfortable, even potentially dangerous situations when we do.  This happens to Brer Rabbit time and time again.  We all make fools of ourselves sometimes, and this happens countless times to Brer Fox.

We all feel like prey at times, and it’s cool to see that the rabbit, a much weaker, preyed upon creature, can triumph again and again over a fox, a much cleverer creature, and a predator. 

            In “Brer Rabbit and the Riding horse”, we see the fox submitting to the rabbit, and allowing the rabbit to ride on his back.  Of course these are unusual circumstances, since both Brer Rabbit and Brer Fox are trying to trick one another.  But it ends with Brer Rabbit tricking Brer fox into saddling up like a horse, and Brer Rabbit riding Brer fox to the home of Miss Meadows and the gals.  Brer Fox is, of course, very humiliated.  We can relate to both animals in this case.  On the one hand, we can relate to Brer Rabbit because he is the lesser of the two creatures, and we’ve all been on the bottom of the dog pile at times. On the other hand, we can relate to Brer Fox, since we’ve all been made fools of before.

            There are times when Brer Rabbit seems more human than Rabbit, and this feature is especially appealing to small children, who often like to pretend they are animals, and who like the idea of the same concept in reverse.  The fact that Brer Rabbit rides a horse, (or a fox, whatever the case may be) and even sits on a saddle and uses a bridle, presents a very entertaining picture, and is something that gives little children a good laugh.

            There are several other things that appeal to small children in the Brer Rabbit stories.  There are several humorous expressions, such as “I’m stronger than bad breath” which is a kind of play on words.

            Though the Brer Rabbit stories are probably geared more towards small children, they have morals for older children and adults too.  Every story, for example, carries the moral of “Don’t seek revenge” which is something Brer Fox does in every tale, and which is also something we may have a tendency to do.

            Brer Rabbit is a character who has touched hearts and lives and young minds for ages, and will continue to do so for ages more, and in my opinion, he well deserves his place!


The Rumplestiltskin Daughter

Filed under: Other stuff — lilwatsongirl @ 2:53 am
Tags: , ,

I have a lot more than this, but this is, I guess, just a starter.  It’s the beginning of the book.


When her father told her of a girl in Iliria who could spin straw into gold, Princess Lila thought he was joking, but then when he told her that if some peasant could do it, she could, she thought he was mad.  He told her that she had to spin straw into gold, or he would kill her.  So when the little man came, and said he could do it for her, she gave in rather easily.  First she gave him her necklace, and then her ring, then he asked for her firstborn.

          “Sir, I have no child.” Lila explained.  “I have no husband.”

          “Ah.”  Said the little man with a sinister look in his eye, “But you shall, someday.  Promise me that when your first child is born, you will give it to me, and I will spin the straw into gold once more for you.”

          Lila was horrified as she heard her own voice whispering, “I promise.”

          Five years later, a princess was born, Princess Rosella.  But to Lila’s horror, the small man came to claim the princess.

          “Wait!  No, don’t take my baby, please!”  Lila sobbed, falling to her knees, her long dark hair fell to the floor.

          The small man stopped, and looked thoughtful. “I suppose that if you could guess my name in, say… Three days, I will not take your child.”

          “Oh, thank you, sir, thank you!”  Lila looked up, her face shining with tears.

*            *            *           *

          Rose sat at the spinning wheel, and cried.  She had made a mess.  Again.  “I can’t do it.  This is the worst thing I have done yet.”  She could not understand it, how had she managed to get her hair in the spinning wheel?  Just then, Aaron walked in holding a broom and dust pan.

          “What have you done?!”  He cried, looking half horrified, half amused.

          “Aaron, it’s not funny!  I just can’t make it do what I want!”  Rose sobbed.  Her long dark hair would have to be cut off now.

          Aaron sighed.  “You know, sometimes I wish that your mother had gotten father’s name correct, she was so close, and then we would not have to deal with you!”  He sighed, and pulled his long bronze hair back and tied it with a piece of twine.  “Just go to your room, Rose.”  He shook his head.

          Rose sniffed.  “I can’t.” she brushed a lock of dark hair from her face, and explained, “I would have to take the spinning wheel with me.”  She gestured towards her hair, tangled in the wheel.

          Aaron groaned, and seized a pair of scissors that were sitting on the desk, and he cut Rose’s hair.  He left it as long as he could, but he was not very careful in making it straight.

          Rose fingered the ragged ends of her hair.  It was still long, falling halfway down her back, but she could not sit on it anymore.  It felt strange.  “Aaron, I am sorry!  I did not mean to, I just…”

          “Just go.”  Aaron pointed her to her room, and gave her a light push.

Still crying, Rose left for her room.  She hated the dank room, she hated the whole tower.  The men who were now her ‘owners’- Rumplestiltskin’s seven sons- were not cruel to her, but Rose would give anything to have stayed with her mother.  She could not remember her mother at all, except for one vague memory of deep blue eyes, with thick, dark lashes.  Even though Rose had no proof that the eyes were that of her mother, or that they were not just an image of her own eyes, she clung to that memory.

          Rose fingered the golden ring that she wore on a chain around her neck.  It was her mother’s ring, and it was beautiful, gold set with a stone as blue as the sky.  As Rose admired it, a tear splashed from her nose onto her hands.  As she watched, the tear rolled off of her slender hands, and landed on the hem of her skirt, turning that small spot from pale pink to a darker shade.  She continued to watch as two more tears followed the path of the first, making three dark spots on her skirt.  She dried her eyes with her sleeves, and she walked to the bed, and sank on to it.

          Her little room was sparsely furnished and dully colored, with the hard little bed and it’s grey blanket, graying pillow, and Rose’s aged rag doll, Flossie.  Near the window was the large, squashy armchair, it’s dull red cover growing dusty.  But one the thing that Rose liked was the little shelf tucked away into the corner, with seven books, with not a speck of dust or a smidgen of dirt, for they were the things that Rose cherished above all else, with the exception of the golden ring around her neck.

          Rose hiccupped, and hugged Flossie tight, before sticking her head around her door.  “Aaron?”

          “Aaron left, Rose.”  Rose heard Zorn call from the next room.

          “Oh.”  Rose stepped out of her musty room, and a shaft of sunlight fell across her face, turning her hair a golden brown color, and causing her face to shine with sparkling tears.  Rose squinted through the suddenly to bright light, and saw a shaggy head of crimson hair, Zorn.

          Zorn snickered.  “Tell me, did you actually get your hair caught in the wheel?”

          “Oh, Zorn.  Leave the girl alone!”  a voice called from the corner.

          “Shuttup, Falcon.”  Zorn growled, glaring at his brother.

          Falcon smiled mischievously as he stepped creepily out of the shadows.  “Tut, tut little bro!  You ought not to be so mean to the poor little one!”  he made a mocking bow in Rose’s direction.

          Trying to keep from bursting into tears again, Rose asked, “Where are Jayk and all the others?”

          Falcon shook his head, and vigorously brushed his brown hair from his eyes, which had a green tint mixed in with solid gray.  “Aha!  The little girl asks about Jayk!  I will be sure to tell him, he will be pleased!”  Falcon turned to Zorn, and grinned, “I do believe that he has rather taken a fancy to her.”  He jabbed his thumb at Rose.

          Rose felt her face burn.  “He has not.” She said, quietly, turning her face away, and letting her hair hide her face.  She did not want Falcon to see her blush.  Turning on her heel she walked to the small kitchen.  She sat at the small, scrubbed table, and put her head on her arms.  She began to cry quietly.  Soon she was so absorbed in the pattern of the rhythm of her sobs that she did not notice when the door opened quietly, and Jayk’s light footsteps came across the wood floor to stop beside her.  She jumped when she felt his hand resting on her shoulder.

          “Rose?”  Jayk murmured, “Are you alright?”

          Rose sat up, and turned to look at Jayk.  He was the youngest of the seven brothers, and he was the one who Rose felt was actually her family.  “Hey, Jayk.”  Rose brushed the tears off her face.

          Jayk smiled.  “Are they teasing you again?”  he asked, looking slightly concerned.

          “Yes, but I’m alright.  Now.  Thank you.”  Rose smiled faintly.

          Jayk turned his thoughtful, pale blue eyes to the now slightly open door.  “I wish they would stop making you cry.”  He said, after a long pause.  “I don’t like to see you cry.”  He looked up at the ceiling, and his thin brown hair fell out of his eyes, and his slender face lit up as the sunlight fell on it.

          “I’m OK, Jayk.” Rose said, rising and placing her small hand on his shoulder.

          Jayk looked down, and shook his head.  “Have you seen Ammon at all today?”  he asked, after a moment’s thought.

          “No, I haven’t.  Have you seen him?”  Rose replied, turning back to her chair, and sinking into it once more.  She paused, “Why?”

          Jayk sat next to her on the floor, and placed his hands on his knees.  “Because I have been looking for him, and I can’t seem to find him anywhere.”  He placed his chin in his hands, a perplexed look on his face.

          “Huh.  That’s odd.”  Rose twisted around in her chair, to look at the door that lead to the great outdoors, as though she hoped that Ammon would walk in at that moment.

          Suddenly, as though responding to a call, Ammon did walk in.  He had flower petals in his soft, black hair, and the tingling smell of outside danced in the door behind him, and it clung to his tunic and pant legs.  Along with that outdoorsy smell was the sharp smell of spices that came wandering out of his pack, and the meaty smell of tonight’s dinner.

          Ammon smiled around bright little room, his green eyes sparkling.  He placed his pack on the floor, and pulled out the package of meat that he had carefully wrapped in oak leaves, and tied with twine.  Next, he pulled out the little bundles of spice, then from the small pocket lined with cotton came a slender branch with plump, bright blue, cheerful looking berries.

          “The last Ammon berries of the season!”  Ammon said, cheerfully, gesturing to the branch.  Ammon had been named after Ammon berries, which were just coming into season when he was born.

          “Ammon, where were you?  I looked for you in the forest, but you weren’t there, and so I went all around the edge of the forest, and you weren’t there, either!”  Jayk cried, jumping up to clasp hands and thump his brother on the back.

          Ammon was the closest to Jaren in looks, personality, and age.  Both had slender faces, straight noses, slim hands, and broad shoulders.  And as the two faced each other, smiles on both of their faces, it struck Rose just how alike they really were.

Was that a bad thing?

She realized that, yes, it was a bad thing.  It could be deadly.sword


Brer Rabbit and the Fox trap

Filed under: Creative Writing Assignments — lilwatsongirl @ 2:26 am
Tags: , , , ,

One hot summer day, Brer Rabbit was a-walking down the path in the forest, minding his own business, watching his feet, and not noticing anything at all, when he heard a right startling crack.  He glanced up real fast, but didn’t see any one.  At the same time, Brer Rabbit noticed that there was a large fox trap on the path in front of him.

            “A fox trap in the middle of my forest??” Brer rabbit was mighty surprised when he saw that there fox trap, and he set to a-wondering who would have had the nerve to do such a thing.

            What Brer Rabbit didn’t know was that Brer Fox was a-sitting behind a big ol’ oak tree near where Brer Rabbit was.  He had been the one to put that there fox trap on that path.  “I’ll get that there darned rabbit this time, if it’s the last thing I do.” Brer Fox thought to himself.  He started waiting for just the right moment, and when Brer Rabbit was just about to walk past the fox trap, he pounced right out from behind the tree, and scared Brer Rabbit right out of his wits!  Brer Rabbit was right startled, and he fell right over and his fine, bushy rabbit’s tail got caught in the fox trap.

            “Ha!” Brer Fox laughed and laughed to see Brer Rabbit a-sitting there, his bushy tail caught in a trap like a guilty hand in a cookie jar.  “I said I’d get you Brer Rabbit, and now, by golly, I getted you!  Oh I said I would some day get you, and now I have, Brer Rabbit!” The fox was so pleased with himself that he sat down hard, laughing till his stomach ached right badly.

            “Brer Fox, you don’t look so good.”  Brer Rabbit told him when Brer fox stopped laughing to catch his breath.

            Brer Fox looked over real sharp at Brer Rabbit, and said “What do you mean, Brer Rabbit?”

            “Well you’ve gone all red, Brer Fox.  I’m a-thinking you might be sick.”  Brer rabbit tutted sadly.  “I’m sorry Brer Fox, but I can’t run for the doctor.  See my tail so caught in this here fox trap, and it’s mighty heavy.  You’d better run for the doctor yourself.”

            “I look sick?” Brer Fox looked worried.  “Brer Rabbit, I think your right.  But if I run for the doctor, I might get more sick!  What can I do, Brer Rabbit?”

            “Brer Fox, for a case like you, theres one way for sure to tell if your sick.  Run all around in circles, and if you begin to feel hot, dizzy and sweaty, then your definitely very sick and you need to fetch a doctor right quick.”

            Brer Fox did as he was told, running around and around in circles till he was mighty dizzy, and in no time at all he was hot and sweaty too.  “Brer Rabbit I am sick!  What can I do?”

            “Well see Brer Fox, I just don’t know.  You can’t go get the doctor, and I can’t either cuz of this darned fox trap.”  Brer Rabbit concealed a smile as Brer Fox jumped to his feet.

            “Hold still, Brer Rabbit. I’m a-setting you loose.  Go fetch the doctor for me. I think I’m real sick!”  By now the fox was feeling very hot and sweaty, and dizzy besides.  He opened up the fox trap and let Brer Rabbit loose, but as soon as he was free, Brer Rabbit turned right around and pushed Brer Fox right into that Fox trap.  Brer Fox let out a mighty yelp.

            “Help me!  I’m a-caught in this here fox trap!”  He glared at Brer Rabbit, and snarled, “I knew I never should have trusted you, Brer Rabbit.  Now I’m a-sick and I aint got no doctor to look after me, and I’m caught in a fox trap!  Oh how I hate you Brer Rabbit!”

            Brer Rabbit let out a might laugh and said, “There weren’t never nothing wrong with you, Brer Fox, except maybe that you’re lacking brains, but you wasn’t never sick!”  Then with a last triumphant laugh, Brer Rabbit hopped away.

            It took Brer Fox hours to get himself out of that fox trap, and when he went home, and brooded and plotted his next attempt on Brer Rabbit.  This time, he was a-planning on using a bear cage…