What are Ozlandish Writings?

From July 2010 to December 2014 we ran OZLAND PICTURE STORIES as described below. Sadly though the number of writers reduced over the years and we decided to call it a day. We leave these as a record of the good times we had.

Are "You" ready to challenge your writing skills? Then participate in our OZLAND Picture Stories writing series at The Ozland Art Gallery.

Each month a new picture will be picked, from our OZLAND Artist of the Month collection, with different themes. Your goal is to write a 500-1000 word... poem... essay... or story about the picture picked. This is a chance for you to challenge your writing skills each month. Story can be written in ANY genre... sci fi... romance... ghost... fantasy... fiction... non-fiction... biography... mystery... historical... whatever your writing genre... feel free to experiment. Send your writing inworld to Sven Pertelson as a notecard to have it included on the web site. We meet at the The Ozland Art Gallery each Wednesday at Noon and 6pm SLT to read the latest submissions on voice. More Information

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

"Trees" by Llola Lane

"Trees" by Llola Lane

Trees trees everywhere I see trees
There are short trees and tall trees
Fat trees and small trees
Young trees and old trees
Green trees and gold trees

Trees as far as the eye can see.
A forest to behold right before me
Shall I go in and explore this place?
Or stay where I am and wash my face?

There's a river to refresh my weary bones
Whilst I drink it I can hear all the lovely tones
The river speaks to me as it flows along
I listen and admire every single song.

Trees trees a forest of trees
Trees that beckon me to join them as quick as I can
I'm refreshed and renew'd and so I ran.
Into the forest so dark and so deep
Without a care I took a giant leap.

I ran and I ran for what seemed hours on end
Just to find myself lost with nary friend
At the center of the forest I found myself stop
and noticed the rock with the bird on top.

It sang a tune so sweet and so mild
It was hard to believe that the bird was so wild
It finished its' song and then started to chatter
It yelled at me, but what did that matter?

Trees trees surrounding me are trees
I was lost and alone as I said before
I had no where to go so I watched it soar
High up in the trees it flew away
and then I thought... "Why should I stay?"

So I followed the bird til it showed me the way out
"Out of this forest" I gave out a shout.
I ran and I ran over bushes and rocks
Past tree limbs and thickets and even a fox.

I ran to a sound so familiar and true
It was mama calling me from out of the blue
Goodbye to the trees in the forest so thick
To the arms of my mother who gave me a lick.

Trees trees behind me are the trees
I'm now safe and sound at the forest edge
"I'll not do that again," I promise and pledge.
For this little girl has learned her lesson well
Stay out of the forest lest mama will yell.

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