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Life it self
Across the shimmering blue lake the little flat rock bounced, jumped and skipped. One after another we threw. Some just sank and others wobbled and flipped. We swung on the frayed rope hanging from the old oak tree. And dropped into the warm waters of Silver lake. We were enjoying every minute of summer break. The sun was shinning bright as puffy white clouds sailed by. We ran, laughed, and played until we were so tired we could cry. We laid on our backs in the tall green grass an peered up at the red tail hawks flying high. We wonder how it must feel to sore in the warm summer sky. Life was a plumb, a bowl of cherries, a cold glass of lemonade, a time to sing, dance like a Sherwood elf. At twelve, what could be more exciting than life it self.
I think Twelve was a magical time for all of us. I know it was for me.
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