The Meadow

     "Don't move," the voice whispered. I tried to do what he instructed. It was hard; the instinct to take flight was nearly uncontrollable.
     "Really?" Laurent seemed interested. "Is that why they left?"
     "No," I answered honestly. "Jasper is more careful at home."
     "Yes," Laurent agreed. "I am too."
     The step forward was quite deliberate.
     "Did Victoria ever find you?" I asked, breathless, desperate to distract him. It was the first question that popped into my head, and I regretted it as soon as the words were spoken. Victoria-who had hunted me with James, and then disappeared-was not someone I wanted to think of at this particular moment.
     But the question did not stop him.
     "Yes," he said, hesitating on that step. "I actually came here as a favor to her." He made a face. "She won't be happy about this."


When reading this part of the book, I got goose bumps, because the reader can see what's coming next, and it's not peaceful. I dove into this chapter, anticipating multiple adrenaline racing parts. This section is also somewhat intersting, becasue Bella hears a voice, telling her to stay put. Bella was frozen, scared and hurt. I also felt her feelings, because anyone would agree that coming close to a horrific death, is prettty scary. All I can say is I'd hate to ever be in Bella's shoes, definitely.

Let the rain kiss you
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops
Let the rain sing you a lullaby
The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk
The rain makes running pools in the gutter
The rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night
And I love the rain. 







I liked this poem, because it makes the author unique. Many people despise the rain, especially coastal people. I do, but every now and then I don't. Rain has a peaceful sense to it, but when it's not wanted, it can be a nuisance. Rain can do all the things mentioned in the poem, and a little more. 

There is Another Sky

There is another sky,
Ever serene and fair,
And there is another sunshine,
Though it be darkness there;
Never mind faded forests, Austin,
Never mind silent fields -
Here is a little forest,
Whose leaf is ever green;
Here is a brighter garden,
Where not a frost has been;
In its unfading flowers
I hear the bright bee hum:
Prithee, my brother,
Into my garden come!




Emily Dickinson was known as a recluse, because she was always writing poems inside her house, never corresponding with people on the outside. This poem, as I have interpreted it, seems to be coming from Emily's view on wanting to be anywhere but where she is. She seems to be wanting to be able to go away to a magnificent garden, where there are no worries. This magnificent garden, or land, has never been touched by anything bad, or damaging. That place sounded like am imaginative place, Emily wanted to be.