Mrs.+Kaplan's+Page

Welcome! I can't wait for camp to begin. For me, writing is both a joy and a struggle. Being able to explore ideas and techniques together makes these next two weeks exciting. Thank you for joining me on this roller coaster ride. I look forward to our ups and downs, our loop-to-loops and hopefully our smooth landings.
 * Mrs. Kaplan's ||  || Page ||   || [[image:pencil_2.png]] ||   ||

Lead sentences: Soon, after a quick breakfast, I would be driving to get my new dog. Dawn broke, my eyes opened, my heart raced, soon my world would be changed in ways I had yet to realize. Early in the rain-drenched morning, I awoke knowing this was the day my world would change.

Rest of story Rain had been falling for the last week, the ground soggy, mud bubbling up like a brew in witch's cauldron under my feet. "Take lots of towels," Art yelled to me. We were on our way to pick up Murray III. Murray-the-Red, Murray-the-love, Murray-the-perfect was the prize from The Cracker Jack box bought to fill the void after 11 years with Murray II, or Murray-the-biter. The prospect filled the house with expectations, creating a palpable hum. Clouds parted and rays of sunshine filtered down as we drove to the breeders. It seemed as if Mother Nature herself was pleased by our choice. Who wouldn't be? Even the breeder confided that we had picked a particularly gentle creature who was sure to be a lovely companion. Giddy with excitement I couldn't wait to see Murray, freshly washed and groomed. She practically pranced right into my arms. Her head resting securely against my shoulder, announcing to the world that she was happy with her choice. The towel lay in the back seat, by her paws remained dry. I wouldn't put her down. She was mine and I wasn't about to let anyone else touch her. The ride home was one big love-fest. My hands never resting, stroking her fur as soft as velvet. I lifted Murray out of the car and placed her perfectly sculpted paws on the pavement. She wouldn't move. It was if she was glued in place and no matter how much I tugged on the leash, she wouldn't budge. "Art, bring lots of treats."

Figurative Poem

Amber lived on a mountain so high, it poked through the clouds like a needle stuck in down. The trees stood still as giant statues. Barnacles and slipper shells covered the crab's back, like jewels on a crown. Horseshoe crabs crowded and pushed, like restless cobble stones. Curly black seaweed was strewn on the sand, like streamers left from a party. Then they twirled through the grass, crazy as two doodle bugs. He looked up as if searching the stars. Then Amber watched her friend down the mountain till she melted into blue mountain mist. And when their voices faded away it was as quiet as a dream.

Living on a mountain so high, it poked through the clouds like a needle stuck in down. Trees stood still as giant statues. Longing for the sea with barnacles and slipper shells covering crabs' back, like jewels on a crown. With horseshoe crabs crowding and pushing, like restless cobble stones. Curly black seaweed strewn on the sand, like streamers left from a party. Looking at this new world twirling through the sand, crazy as two doodle bugs. Stopping to look up as if searching the stars, slowly returning to the mountain home of their existence Then watching as her friend climbed down the mountain this time for good till she melted into blue mountain mist. And when their voices faded away quiet as a dream.