Final Portfolio - Inspired By the Things I Love by Valentina Zamora

Table of Content: ● Author’s Forward (pg. 3) ● Work of Nonfiction (pg. 6) ● Work of Extended Fiction (pg. 8) ● Works of Microfiction (pg. 10) ● Works of Formal Poetry (pg. 12) ● Works of Free Verse Poetry (pg. 15) ● Originals of Work/Author’s Notes (pg. 18) * = Worked on in class

Author’s Forward

Throughout the semester, I learned some useful techniques to apply to my writing. I learned about imagery which I used in my poem A Needle and Thread. This technique really taught me to imagine the detail that could go into a person, place, or thing and put it into words, so the reader could use their imagination while reading my piece. In my poem A Needle and Thread, I imagined the needle in my head and tried to describe it and how it reflected with the light making the reader imagine the line, “Then she saw something small reflecting with the light,” going on in their head. Another writing technique I learned this semester was tone and voice in writing. This was a real game changer in my writing especially for my personal essay, Before I Met My Abuela. It really taught me how the tone and voice can change the emotion/feel to the entire story. This really impacted my personal essay because I wrote about my Grandmother that had passed away before I was born. It was a very emotional piece as my mother told me what had happened leading up to her death/ my birth and me making that into an emotionally beautiful story. That’s why getting the tone and voice right was so important to me to learn and also apply to my writing. But one of the most impactful techniques I had learned this semester was dialogue. Do People Change was about two girls who were enemies in the beginning but worked their way to sympathy for each other in the end. I really tried to make the dialogue dramatic so readers were on the edge of their seat like when Amber spilled chocolate milk all over Carol and then Carol slapped her. I really challenged myself to make most of that story was dialogue. Before I

used not even know what to put down, but after learning and reading how the dialogue helps move the story along and can create important scenes, I think it really helped me improve. In my piece Do People Change, I really tried to push my new dialogue stills to the max, and I saw some major improvements from before and after. I think my favorite piece of writing has to be Do People Change. To me, it felt like a risk all combining some things I did and didn't do well at. I added new elements while creating a storyline that in the end would have a happy ending, but yet keep the readers at the edge of their seats. Also, it was one of the last assignments of the semester, so it was a perfect collection of all we really learned since the beginning. I think the thing I struggled the most with this piece was how much I stepped out of my comfort zone. I really made the story be run by the dialogue rather than a background story. I also went for something more dramatic than rather something sappy, sweet, and romantic. It felt good to take a risk with this assignment as I think it really helped me advance as a writer. In the end, personally, I think I did a great job on Do People Change. This has to be one of my new favorite pieces that I got to add to my portfolio. While we headed towards the end of the semester, and while I was making this final portfolio, I really took my time and looked my evolution from beginning to end. I took into account what I had improved, and what I could still do better at. I think the assignments like the fiction and personal narrative helped impact my writing for the better. Those two were really a mixture of all the mini-lessons combined not including the poems. I think what the poems did for me was that they really helped me open myself up to being able to describe people, places, or things in more detail. Overall

looking at all the aspects of my writing I can tell I have really improved with dialogue, tone, voice, emotion, and detail. Sure there were some tough lessons that never really made sense to me, but what did make sense to me really helped me improve as a writer.

Works of Nonfiction *Before I Met My Abuela It was around January of 2001, Lila was receiving a phone call of great news, she wiped a tear from her cheek and prayed for the joyous blessing that had bestowed on the family. “Claudia! Esa es una Trivilina!” she said over the phone to her oldest daughter... who had just told her she was now pregnant. “Thank you, Mami, but I don’t know if it is even going to be a girl. Te mando mucho besos,” said Claudia. “Okay mija, but don’t forget that I will visit you in the U.S. once the baby is born to help you,” she said as she put down the phone. Wiping the last tear from her face, Lila finished her floral arrangement and then started cooking some pastries. “Nine months,” she thought to herself as she took her medication, “nine more months…” March of 2001, Lila was cooking arroz de leche when she felt an awful pain in her thigh. Sure she was sick, but her leg was the size of a basketball. Sighing she finished cooking and put the food in the fridge. Lila then hopped in a taxi to take her to the doctors to see what was wrong. She arrived and was taken to have surgery on Monday. By Tuesday and Wednesday, she was in great health with her three other children visiting her bringing flowers and cards. Claudia had the planned to come down on Saturday to visit her mom and help her get back on her feet. But come Thursday, things took a turn for the worse. Lila suddenly grew weak and sicker by the hour. It must have been her lungs or the cause of pain her leg caused, but there was no way she was leaving anytime soon. As Friday arrived the family feared the worse. Carlos and Agusto, her two younger sons, spent their time at church praying while Sandra her second oldest daughter tried to keep everyone calm and collected like her older sister would do if she was there. “She is going to be here,” Sandra thought to herself, “Claudia is going to make it and be here.” Then on Saturday, March 31st, the day of Claudia’s flight, Lila could not wait any longer and felt herself dying. There was a terrible feeling Claudia felt in the plane. Like something bad had happened, but she wouldn’t be sure until she

arrived that night only to find out that her mother had passed. “I never even got to say goodbye,” Claudia said as she was being comforted by her younger sister. She picked up her mother’s black dress and sighed. Claudia couldn’t use her sister’s dress because her belly would stretch out. She gently traced the delicate lace across the waist of the dress. Putting the dress she could feel her mother with her. As she walked into the funeral home with her siblings, as family members came to greet her, pay their condolences, and of course feel the baby. “It’s okay to cry,” Sandra said as she placed a hand on Claudia’s shoulder just before the ceremony was going to start. With a nod, Claudia faced forward and began to listen. She didn’t wanna cry as that could stress out the baby. With a heavy heart, her mother was buried into the ground. Grass and mud covered her now. Claudia thought to herself, “oh how she will never get to meet the baby. I never even gotta tell her it was a girl.” September 18th, 2001, at 4:41 pm a beautiful baby girl was born. Claudia held her in her arms and thought, “oh how I wish you were here with me Mami.” The nurse asked her what should the name be, and Claudia responded, “Valentina...Her name will be Valentina for that was my mother’s choice.” Brown hair and big chocolate brown eyes, Claudia couldn’t believe the emotional roller coaster she had gone through these past nine months. Then, a curious little Alex and Lina, her two other children, came over to see their new baby sister. “I wanted it to be a boy!” said Lina, but at that moment Claudia couldn’t be happier to have had a girl. “But now you can have someone to play dress up with,” said their dad as held picked up the little baby girl in his arms. At that moment she could feel her mother watching over her. And she now knew that the ones you love never leave you; they stay with you in spirit.

Work of Extended Fiction *Do People Change? It was just a typical Tuesday afternoon at Thornville Castle all-girls boarding school in Rome Town, England. All the young ladies were off to lunch in the courtyard. Carol Blake, the American that had just moved from Kansas, sat down by the fountain with her two best friends Olivia Jones and Veronica Smith. She was just about to bite into her tuna and cucumber sandwich when she heard a faint argument. “I’m so sorry Amber,” said a mousey freshman, “I had so much to do last night.” A distinct red head named Amber yelled back, “You said you could have my homework done by CLASS! I hope you saved some sanity because I’m going to make your life a living hell!” “There goes another Amber Alert victim,” said Olivia. “I wonder why the evil, rude, devilspawn redhead from Canada is bothering the freshman today?" said Carol. "I wish someone would put her in her place," she said with a sigh. Veronica scoffed, “HA… Good luck with that.” “Thanks,” said Carol as she stood up from the bench. Leaving her concerned friends behind, Carol walked right up to Amber and said, “What is your problem?!” The lunchroom shifted uncomfortably as Amber slowly turned to face Carol. “Excuse me?!” said Amber, “does the Cow have something to say?” “Yeah I do,” raising her voice, Carol proceeded to say, “everyone is sick of your drama. If you wanted your homework done then you should have finished it instead of flirting with the headmistress’s son.” Suddenly a cold brown liquid dripped down Carol’s forehead. Followed by a trail of gasps, Amber finished pouring her chocolate milk all over Carol. It was almost like a clap of thunder when Carol’s hand slapped Amber’s face leaving a red handprint. With a scoff, Amber walked off with her minions Becka and Jessica as Olivia and Veronica quickly hurried Carol to the bathroom. “I can’t believe you did that,” said Veronica. Cleaning the milk from her hairline Olivia said, “Yeah, but you know it’s not over right. She’s going to come at you harder now.”

“Not if I do something about it,” said Carol, “I just don’t know what.” Walking out of the bathroom, Carol spotted the headmistresses office. With a grin, she said, “I’ll meet you guys in class later. I’m going to go have a chat with our beloved headmistress.” Olivia and Veronica exchanged a look of concern but kept walking. Sick and tired of all the fighting and drama Amber had been causing, Carol had enough. As she stormed into the Headmistress office, the person standing in front of her almost paralyzed her. “Oh, Miss Blake, I was just about to call you,” Said Headmistress Margret. Standing in front of Carol was none other than a smirking Amber. “We were all about to have a discussion about your little outburst today,” said Amber. “Outburst? What outburst?!” responded Carol with a huff. Amber then said, “Oh just how you slapped me in the courtyard today.” She then showed the headmistress the red handprint on her right cheek. Carol scoffed and said, “I slapped you?! PLEASE! After all the things you've done to make my life here a living hell, I am guessing you had it coming.” “MISS BLAKE,” response the headmistress, “HOW DARE YOU SPEAK WITH THAT TONE!” “Well that’s what you get when you bring a trashy American farmer to a British boarding school,” said Amber. Her face was quickly jolted to the other side by Carol’s hand. Shooting a glare at Carol’s tear-filled face, she said, “Oh bloody hell... It’s on.” Each girl began ripping at each other, slapping faces, rolling on the ground, and even landing on the coffee table until cold handcuffs were on the wrists. Demandingly she told them, “You want to act like animals,” said Headmistress Margret, “Then you are going to be caged like them too." There she was, rock bottom. It was warmer than she thought as she sat on the cell bench. Looking at Amber trace the handprint her face and re-tying her ponytail, Carol actually felt sympathy for her. She wondered what had caused a girl like this to act the way she does. As she fixed her braid, Carol was surprised to hear Charlie, the headmistresses son. “Look at both of you, he said, “why is it that you girls fight about everything. You guy look like you went through a tornado. Well, I guess you are considered the tornado if you look at my mother’s office.” As Charlie walked away with a chuckle, Carol and Amber sighed and looked down in shame. 9

At that point, Carol did not know what to say. She thought, “what if I talked to her… maybe she’ll open up to me.” And like the snap of a finger, both girls looked at each other and said, “I’M SORRY!”

Works of Microfiction *A Magical Wedding When Avalon was little, each night before bed, her father would always tell her the love story of him and her mother. Each story she loved, but her favorite was their wedding. He said it was the most magical day of his life. After that, every time they passed a bridal shop, Avalon would always drag her father inside to admire all the dresses and brides-to-be. As she looked up at each bride, she dreamed of her day to come. As Avalon got older, she had left many trails of broken hearts until one day when the love of her life finally proposed to her. As the wedding day approached, everything was almost perfect. A day before the wedding, Avalon realizes, “I FORGOT THE DRESS!” She looked everywhere trying to find the dress of her dreams, but alas she could never rush such an important matter. The next day she woke up definitely not feeling bridal. A box from across the room caught her eye. Inside was a beautiful wedding gown, and a note, “Mom would have loved to see you in this.” It was the dress from her mother’s wedding. At that moment, Avalon knew her wedding was magical.

The Detention Club Monday after school detention was the last place these girls wanted to be, but that’s what you get when you start a food fight in the cafeteria. As each girl looked each other they couldn’t help notice how different they are. One was a popular girl, bad girl, outsider, and a political dreamer. As they sat there for what felt like the rest of eternity, the teacher walked in with a stack of white lined paper, “Listen up trouble makers. I know you don’t want to be here because neither do I, so i’m going to make you guys write a five page essay instead of cleaning.” Groaning, each girl stands up and grabs a couple pages. One then proceeded to raise her hand and with a prissy attitude said, “I think it’s our right to choose whether to write or not.” The teacher stooped down to her level and said, “you want to scrub the floors? Then write... that... paper.” Five hours felt like five days. Everyone was falling asleep until “BANG”! One had hit her head on the desk. Each girl chuckled since that was the most interesting thing to happen in the last three hours.

Works of Formal Poems *The Jacket (Pantoum)

He holds his jacket over your head as it rains, You holding on his arm, Smiling in each other's embrace, Feeling the drops on your shoulder,

You hold on his arm, Squeezing his arm tight, Feeling the drops on your shoulder, You start walking faster,

Squeezing his arm tight, Seeing the car in your distance, You start walking faster, Him shielding you from the rain,

Seeing the car in your distance, Your hand travels down interlocking with his, Him shielding you from the rain, You plant a kiss on his cheek as you arrive at the car.

Ingredients for Halloween (Ghazal) Do Frightening terrors wreak havoc through the night? Having children be the main meal fright. Do witches cast their spells? To keep mortals out of their hearts. Do zombies rise from the dead? To see their loved ones once again. Do vampires suck blood? To try and fill on life and love. Do spirits haunt humans? To solve unfinished business. Do pumpkins bring joy? If you carve a smile. Do black cats bring bad luck? Or just happy accidents. Does the stroke of midnight automatically cause a witching hour? Or is it just time passing by. Are these things real? Or just a dream.

Coco's Great-Great-Grandson (ballad) A dream I chase may break our family apart. But my dream I chase feels like just who we are. Straying from tradition I play, A melody that sets my heart away. From my grandmother's ear, she hears the song, Storming in she breaks my guitar. Ashamed and alone I sit and pray, To wonder why I am this way. I open my eyes to a world full of color and light, To see my ancestors dance in the night. They help guide me the way, To fix our broken past and save the day. Together as one, we come as a family, To embrace the secret that was kept hidden. A secret kept hidden know open and free I know to realize family is the most important thing to me.

The First Snow (Haiku) Covered wintertime A beautiful, red bird calls Enjoying the view

Works of Free Verse Poems Him How could he smile like that? How could he wink with those beautiful eyes? How could he wave with a hand that was meant for holding? How could he look at me and say hi without realizing what he is doing to me? What if he came up to me and held my hand? What if he talked to me for more than a second? What if he kissed me with that beautiful smile? What if he loved me? Would he love me? Would he kiss me? Would he hold my hand? Could there be a chance, That I'm the one falling head over heels? No, no, no... I can't and won't fall for him, Not yet.

Creativity and Chaos The swirling of a paintbrush on a blank canvas creates an original beauty, The writing of a story makes a book take us on a world of imagination, The use of ordinary items for extraordinary wonders, A single little ladybug lands on the nose of a black kitten creating peace between all the differences. But then the wind blows it away, A flood of water washes away the art, A fire burns the trees and all traces of imagination, An ordinary item never being used and is pushed aside, Everything being destroyed until the peace of creativity and chaos is restored When the ladybug comes back.

A Calm State of Mind He was a cloud of sleeping comfort There was nothing in the world that could tear him out of those sheets. Thinking too soon there was a noise, Her voice was sweet like honey when she called his name ever. Suddenly warm hands pick him up to face his sweet honey voice, Kissing his nose she carried him to her bed, Finding a spot he plopped down and make himself comfortable, Eyelids were getting heavier and heavier to keep open As he started to fall asleep, Her dark blue hair and bluebell eyes were the last things he saw beforeâ&#x20AC;Ś He woke up only to find himself alone. She was gone and he was confused Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s like she was never there. As if it was a dream

*A Needle and Thread At the age of eight, she picked up her aunts sewing needle. Not knowing what it meant, she learned how to sew. Almost a decade later with more responsibilities she had lost the needle. Forgetting about her needle she moved on to something even scarier. Instead of enjoying herself she buried herself in stress, pain, and sadness. She didn't know what she was meant to do with her future. Confusion and life had overtaken her to try and find an answer. Then she saw something small reflecting with the light. She dug and dug through the pain, stress, confusion, and a messy room, Only to find her needle with thread.

Originals of Work/Author’s Notes Do People Change? (original) It was just a typical Tuesday afternoon at Thorn Ville Castle all-girls boarding school in Rome Town, England. All the young ladies were off to lunch in the courtyard. Carol Blake, the American that had just moved from Kansas, sat down by the fountain with her two best friends Olivia Jones and Veronica Smith. She was just about to bite into her cucumber sandwich when she heard a faint argument. “I’m sorry Amber,” said a mousey freshman, “I had so much to do last night.” A distinct red head named Amber yelled back, “You said you could have my homework done by CLASS! I hope you saved some sanity because I’m going to make your life a living hell!” “There goes another Amber Alert victim,” said Olivia. “GOD,” said Carol, “why is she is such an evil, rude, devilspawn redhead from Canada? I wish someone would put her in her place.” Veronica scoffed, “HA… Good luck with that.” “Thanks,” said Carol as she stood up from the bench. Leaving her concerned friends behind, Carol walked right up to Amber and said, “What is your problem?!” The lunchroom shifted uncomfortably as Amber slowly turned to face Carol. “Excuse me?!” said Amber, “does the Cow have something to say?” “Yeah I do,” raising her voice, Carol proceeded to say, “everyone is sick of your drama. If you wanted your homework done then you should have finished it instead of flirt with the headmistresses son.” Suddenly a cold brown liquid dripped down Carol’s forehead followed by a trail of gasps as Amber finished pouring her chocolate milk on Carol. It was almost like a clap of thunder when Carol’s hand slapped Amber’s face leaving a red handprint. With a scoff,

Amber walked off with her minionsBecka and Jessica as Olivia and Veronica quickly hurried Carol to the bathroom. “I can’t believe you did that,” said Veronica. Cleaning the milk from her hairline Olivia said, “Yeah but you know it’s not over right. She’s going to come at you harder now.” “Not if I do something about it,” said Carol, “I just don’t know what.” Walking out of the bathroom, Carol spotted the headmistresses office. With a grin, she said, “I’ll meet you guys in class later. I’m going to go have a chat with our beloved headmistress.” Olivia and Veronica exchanged a look of concern but kept walking. Sick and tired of all the fighting and drama Amber had been causing, Carol had enough. As she stormed into the Headmistress office, the person standing in front of her almost paralyzed her. “Oh, Miss Blake, I was just about to call you,” Said Headmistress Margret. Standing in front of Carol was none other than a smirking Amber. “We were all about to have a discussion about your little outburst today,” said Amber. “Outburst? What outburst?!” responded Carol with a huff. Amber then said, “Oh just how you slapped me in the courtyard today.” She then showed the headmistress the red handprint on her right cheek. Carol scoffed and said, “I slapped you… PLEASE! After all, you’ve done to make my life here a living hell I am guessing you had it coming.” “MISS BLAKE,” response the headmistress, “how dare you to speak with that tone.” “Well that’s what you get when you bring a trashy American farmer to a British boarding school,” said Amber. Her face was quickly jolted to the other side by Carol’s hand. Shooting a glare at Carol’s tear-filled face, she said, “Oh bloody hell... It’s on.” Each girl began ripping at each other, slapping faces, rolling on the ground, and even landing on the coffee table until cold handcuffs were on the wrists. Demandingly she told them, “You want to act like animals,” said Headmistress Margret, “Then you are going to be caged like them too."

There she was, rock bottom. It was warmer than she thought as she sat on the cell bench. Looking at Amber trace the handprint her face and re-tieing her pony-tail, Carol actually felt sympathy for her. She wondered what had caused a girl like this to act the way she does. As she fixed her braid, Carol was surprised to hear Charlie, the headmistresses son. “Look at both of you, he said, “why is it that you girls fight about everything. You guy look like you went through a tornado. Well, I guess you are considered the tornado if you look at my mother’s office.” As Charlie walked away with a chuckle Carol and Amber sighed and looked down in shame. At that point, Carol did not know what to say. She thought, “what if I talked to her… maybe she’ll open up to me.” And like the snap of a finger, both girls looked at each other and said, “I’M SORRY!” Author’s Notes: When I was writing this story I really tried to envision every single scene to have the ability to grab the reader. I wanted people to be on the edge of their seats waiting to see what was going to happen next. Overall In the workshops I got a good response from my classmates on my work. They corrected me on a couple spelling errors, and maybe places where I could reword better. For example, "Carol scoffed and said, “I slapped you… PLEASE! After all, you’ve done to make my life here a living hell I am guessing you had it coming.” Was the original until someone gave a comment to reword around "After all." Now I think it sounds way better, "Carol scoffed and said, “I slapped you?! PLEASE! After all the things you've done to make my life here a living hell, I am guessing you had it coming.” All their suggestions really opened my eyes to really READ over my piece and nitpick each word. It helped me connect more with the story and really have a chance to make my story better. Other than that, the only other big thing to do was give my story a title. In the end, I think by applying the comments and suggestions from my classmates and trying to connect with the story really helped better my work. It really taught me that I can take my time with the story to really make it something the reader would enjoy.

A Magical Wedding (original) Since she was a little, Avalon has been dreaming about her wedding. She had a mini planner full of crayon-colored flowers and clippings from her mother’s old magazines. Then when she was 23, the love of her life proposed to her on Christmas Eve. After the holidays, Avalon got busy planning her dream wedding. The wedding date was set, and as days became weeks and then months, time was running out. Lucky Avalon was organized. Everything was perfect except for one forgotten detail. A day before the wedding, her grandmother asks, “So, can I see the wedding dress?” In a state of panic, she yells out, “THE DRESS! How could have I forgotten it!” Feeling defeated, all she had was a cheap dress from JCPenney. The next day she woke up definitely not feeling bridal. A box from across the room caught her eye. Inside was her mini old planner from when she was little. In the book, there was a note, “Hope this fits your perfect wedding as it was to mine.” She tore away the tissue paper to find a beautiful wedding gown that had belonged to her mother. It was the perfect piece for her dream wedding. Author’s Notes: This story was inspired by where I work which a bridal boutique here in Lancaster Called Posh Bridal. The whole staff was eating when my boss was looking through some albums. She then showed us a picture of her wedding day and then began to tell us all her wedding story that then inspired my microfiction piece. I really wanted to rewrite it and tell about her amazingly crazy day. Writing this piece was fun since I had a lot I could connect to. I also got a lot of great responses in the workshops. People love the storyline and how in the end the main character connects with her mother. “It really touches the heart,” said one person in the workshop. They also mentioned it was a little choppy, and some parts didn't make sense. So i really went back and took my time looking over all the grammar and story line. I ended up nit-picking and changing most of my story. Instead of everything focusing on the dress, I changed the focus point of the main character to more of her relationship with her family. I took her story and kind of made it my own, and I was really happy with it. The theme remains the same, but I did make bigger changes to it overall. I think the responses of my classmates really helped influence my piece for the better. I think my microfiction flows better after that and it wasn't too choppy in the end.

The Jacket (original) He holds his jacket over your head as it rains, You holding on his arm, Smiling in each other's embrace, Feeling the drops on your shoulder, You hold on his arm, Squeezing his arm tight, Feeling the drops on your shoulder, You then start walking faster to his car, Squeezing his arm tight, Yous see the car in your distance, You then start walking faster in his car, Him shielding you from the rain, You see the car in your distance, Your hand travels down interlocking with his, Him shielding you from the rain, You plant a kiss on his cheek as you arrive at the car. Author’s notes: This poem was inspired to be a romantic scene you could see in something like the movie and book, To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before. Personally, I am a sucker for romance, so I really wanted to make this poem feel like it could be a scene in a romantic comedy or a chick flick. I wrote this piece to be an emotional step for the characters in this poem. They treat each other with such love and care. For example, the boy in this poem is risking getting wet only to try to keep the narrator dry. He continues to guide the narrator until they get to the car. I miss the simple scenes like those in movies, or in real life. That’s why having so much emotion and they type of tone in this poem was really important to me. When working in the workshop, most of the comments about my poem were very positive. One of the comment, however, gave me a suggestion to change "You then start walking faster in his car," which I changed to "You start walking faster." After that, I went back and reread the poem again taking grammatical and word tense corrections. I really appreciated the support and suggestions my classmates gave me, and I think really they helped my poem become better. In the end, I was really proud of the tone and emotion I put into this piece, and who knows. Maybe someone out there is living this moment.

Ingredients for Halloween (original) Do Frightening terrors wreak havoc through the night? Having children be the main meal fright. Do witches cast their spells? To keep mortals out of their hearts. Do zombies rise from the dead? To see their loved ones once again. Do vampires suck blood? To try and fill on life and love. Do spirits haunt humans? To solve unfinished business. Do pumpkins bring joy? If you carve a smile. Do black cats bring bad luck? Or just happy accidents. Does the stroke of midnight automatically cause a witching hour? Or is it just time passing by. Are these things real? Or just a dream.

Author’s Notes: At the time I had written this poem, it was around Halloween. I remembered that I was really stuck on what to write about. So inspired by the upcoming Halloween festivities, I wrote this poem. I really stepped back and looked at all the elements that I thought made up Halloween, and put them into this piece. It has a cute element with a dark twist. Each line started out dark but then gave an alternative to reality. My favorite part of this poem has to be, “Are these things real? Or just a dream,” because it really strayed gave a reality element to the whole poem. This at the time was written during the lessons where we learned different types of poems. Ghazal was the style I had chosen for it because it was made up like an odd-numbered chain of 23

couplets, where each couplet is an independent poem, and it also has many words that repeat in the beginning. This poem, unfortunately, was not posted to any moodle workshop, but from asking my friends their opinion, I overall got nice responses. I wish it was not as cheesy as what I made it be. But overall I was pretty ok with how it turned out. Is this my favorite poem? Not really, however, I did go back and fixed some of the grammatical errors, and made the flow together better. In the end, this poem is a cute one, but not really something I would ever really post.

Coco's Great-Great-Grandson (Original) A dream I chase may break our family apart. But my dream I chase feels like just who we are. Straying from tradition I play, A melody that sets my heart away. From my gradmotherâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s ear, she hears the song, Storming in she breaks my guitar. Ashamed and alone I sit and pray, To wonder why I am this way. I open my eyes to a world full of color and light, To see my ancestors dance in the night. They help guide me the way, To fix our broken past and save the day. Together as one, we come as a family, To embrace the secret that was kept hidden. A secret kept hidden know open and free I know to realize family is the most important thing to me. Authorâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Notes:â&#x20AC;&#x2039; This poem has to be one of my favorites. This was inspired by the movie Coco. This movie was about a boy and his Mexican family celebrating Dia de Los Muertos. I really felt inspired and wrote this poem based off of it. The journey that the main character faced in this movie, and how he learns a very valuable and emotional lesson is something that everyone should really see. My poem is almost like a small summary of the movie, but with just as much emotion and love as the movie. I chose to write this poem in a ballad form to almost separate the events that happened in the movie in order. This poem shows to be a ballad by having at least five stanzas with four 24

sentences in each one as well as having some word rhyming at the end. Almost like an ABAB rhythm. It worked out perfectly as I was writing. The way each main part of the story lined up with the ballad format was amazing to me. If there was really something I would change about the poem, it would be to maybe make it a little more emotional. Even though I already adore this poem as is, I think maybe with more suggestions I could make this poem perfect. While writing this poem, I learned how powerful emotions are, and how there is so much around us to inspire us. As Miguel, the main character, in this poem would say, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Buen Echo!â&#x20AC;?