Grow towards the sky
Oh, sweet grape in the vineyard
With roots underground
When he looks at me, I see glitters in his eyes
When he calls my name, his voice reaches my heart
He is someone I know for a long time
He loves me but he is shy
No words of love I can hear from him
But he makes me feel special
He is there when I need him
He is there to listen
I know he loves me
Because we are best of friends
When I cry, he wipes my tears
But he cannot take away my fear
I am someone he knows for a long time
Yes, I love him but I am shy
No words of love he can hear from me
But I make him feel special
I am there when he needs me
I am there to listen
He knows I love him
Because we are best of friends
Until the day we have to say goodbye
Because we have to take different paths
Who will be there when I need him?
Who will be there to listen?
I believe he will still love me
I know he will always love me
Because I know he loves me… as his one true friend.
Unexpectedly, we met in one summer night
You and I talked under the moon that shone so bright
And I gave you a gift to make you feel alright
I smiled at you while my tears were out of your sight
You told me about your dreams and plans for your life
Including the girl you wanted to be your wife
I tried to hold back to avoid a bitter strife
But my heart felt like it was cut with sharpest knife.
I knew everything so thanks, you didn’t deny!
Before you told me, you already made me cry
I’d be happy for you though it was hard to try;
My gift for you was my way of saying goodbye.
Back when I was in grade school and in high school, I dreamed to be a novelist. My friends were my paper and pen. I often sat in the corner of the classroom and I preferred to be silent when the teacher was out. Some of my classmates said that I was boring but when they started to get to know me, they were surprised by how I could drag them to different emotions just by reading my stories. They found that my silence is my creativity.
I could still remember when my teacher asked the class to write our own short stories. Most of the time I wrote when every one in the house was asleep. I tried to write just a short story but when I was writing, there were many ideas of plots and scenes that came out naturally. There was the stream of consciousness that I could not resist. In the end, I was able to write a novelette instead of a short story.
My teacher said not to delete scenes from it because it was a masterpiece. He asked me to continue what could make it better. Then he ordered me to create a new story that should be a short story that I must submit as a requirement. In other words, the one that I first wrote was never submitted but I kept it and I wanted to improve it. I didn’t know the beauty of what I wrote until college.
My classmates in college asked me if I had written any story. I told them that I wrote something when I was in high school. They asked me to read it to them. I did and they listened carefully. After reading the novelette, I was flattered by how they could imagine the characters and the scenes the same as I was imagining. They even got affected by some of the lines. They admired the lead characters even just by hearing the story and they even talked about it.
As a writer, it was nice to hear that people appreciated our stories, how they could recall the scenes and the characters and how they could relate the lesson to life. But there was nothing to brag about. For many people it was a good read but unfortunately, the paper was destroyed by a typhoon. Now the story just remained in our memory. And it is one of the memories that I reminisce.
This Summer Calls the Rain to Fall on Me
a blank verse by Mich Samson