Quick note to the reader: The below writing is small glimpse into the lives of Connor Bailey and Daisy Greene but not part of my novel about them. In my novel Daisy is 15 and Connor is 17, however, in the below essay they are 12 and 14. In my last blog poem entitled, ‘Connor Bailey’ and also ‘Connor’s Run’ they were older. Keeping ages in mind will help you. Please enjoy……
Daisy sat, sweating, on the sandy beach, mumbling to herself, deep in thought, as she wrote poetry in her notebook.
Daisy’s Day Dream
Connor Bailey, he’s so cute
My heart makes music, like a flute
Shut my mouth and keep it mute
Till I’m old enough to catch the loot
Connor Bailey, for me, does suit
Daisy giggled at her home spun verses. Then she turned the page of her notebook to write new lines…….
Come Play with Me
I’ve missed you, come…, let us greet
In my waves come stick your feet
Up to your knees
Come splash in me
Young and old can beat the heat
Pull up lawn chairs, take a seat
Summer’s here! Enjoy the Beach!
A sudden, “What’cha do’in Baby Daisy?” interrupted her dreamy thoughts.
Daisy squinted up into the sunlight to see Connor Bailey standing before her. She quickly shut her notebook and tucked it away in her beach bag.
“Not much, just hanging around.”
“Oh yea, what’cha write’in” Connor flopped down in the sand next to her in a lazy fashion.
Daisy took her towel from her bag and wiped the perspiration from her face; while Connor looked out over the rumbling ocean and bright blue sky. Daisy was only 12 years old. The things she might be found writing about over summer break were not likely to be of serious importance to 14-year-old Connor. His question was more of a lighthearted greeting than a probing for answers about her activities. But she gave him an answer anyway.
“My school is having a competition over summer break. There are prizes for whoever turns in the best poetry in September.”
“I thought the beach would be a good place to start, ya know, with all the kids digging in the sand, dogs running, the hot sun, the ocean……….” Daisy drifted dreamily off in her speech as she watched the ocean playfully whoosh in and out.
Connor chuckled and gave her an amused side glance. “Man, Daisy, you are such a dreamer. Come on, let’s take a swim. I feel like a baked potato.”
Connor then hopped up, grabbing Daisy’s arm at the same time, giving her no time at all to answer. They jogged straight into the ocean. Connor quickly dove below the waves and came up a distance away. He slung his wet head wildly to the right, which gave him the appearance of a shaggy dog.
“OOOOOO-EEEEEE! Come on Daisy!” He hollered with refreshment.
Daisy, not being as quick as Connor to dive, was struck by the friendly but cold wave.
“AAAAAAA!” she squealed at the shockingly cold splash. Then she dove and swam in Connor’s direction.
“Race ya to the sand bar!” Connor hollered when her head popped up for air.
They swam together as fast as they could to the sand bar.
Connor was first of course. He was always first. It was a regular, natural occurrence, him being 2 years older and all. It didn’t matter much. Daisy loved to race him, mostly because he loved to race. Any kind of racing Connor loved, no matter whether it was on land or in the water. Connor loved the thrill of speed. That was just part of who he was. And Daisy followed Connor as often as she could. That was just part of who she was.
She followed him now, all around the sandbar, hoping to find sharks teeth. But after travelling from one end of the sandbar to the other with no luck, they lay down in the wet sand to watch the seagulls play in the blue sky. After a while Connor’s stomach began making angry hungry growling noises!
“I’m hungry! Let’s go make sandwiches at your place, Daisy.”
Daisy giggled at the angry noise Connor’s stomach was making.
“You’re always hungry Connor! Wanta race back to my place?!”
“You’re on! Loser makes the sandwiches!”
Race me! Race me!
See how fast you can be!
Through the water, like fishes be!
Up on sand, she races me!
Down the street, we feel so free!
Faster! Faster! Is our plea!
Make a turn, apartments see!
Up back stairs, she follows me!
Bang the door belonging to Daisy!
“I’d like ham please”
Grins Connor Bailey!
Everyone please have a great day!
All writing found on daisydesk is totally by Julia French except for ‘running sister’ that of course, is my sisters writing and is clearly marked so. My work may not be reproduced in any form without my written permission.