'Ello, darlings!
Here I am again, this time with an English descriptive writing essay, that I thought I might alter things a bit and change things to make it Gorillaz-y!
ENJOY!
And review?
:D
Emerald green hills glittered majestically in the musty morning rays of the waking sun. The air was fresh and still. Silently still. A delicate sparrow flittered above the sleeping trees, perched on the edge of the hills. He absently recited a sweet melody by heart, soaring over endless jade seas. He floated out the clouds and dropped lightly onto the edge of a homemade pier, bound with stiff, weathered rope, stretching into a narrow strip of silent water. Molten gold rays of sun played mischievously on his turtle shell feathers. He watched a single moorhen scoot lazily along the water, causing interruptions as she glided, ghost – like, towards the other side of the pool.
The ripples gently awoke nesting ducks in the tangle of brambles and thorns at the banks of the water. She was in the shade of a perfect arch of a wooden bridge, head high.
She called a soft greeting to a bleary – eyed mother duck, fussing over her tiny children. The moorhen slowed as she neatly dodged a patch of springtime lilies. The thin stretch of water opened out into the largest part of the pool. The edges were sprinkled with growing sycamores and willows and maples and silver birches which were dozily chattering in the crisp, spring air. The laurel and lilacs were sprouting aggressively, unfurling in the leaks of light. Spiky wisps of green hair were decorated with silver spots of dew; a spider web glistened with it, too.
The moorhen clucked softly in surprise as a glittering fish swerved beneath her. He dodged waving weeds which parted for him as he fluttered around under the clear surface of the water. He ducked noiselessly under the cover of pine – coloured weeds as he spooked at the ripples on the golden surface.
It was a kingfisher, beautifully robed in fantastic shades of emerald and indigo and amber. He dipped his toes into the chilly water, scanning the pool. He flapped gracefully over the patch of lilies before landing in a blossoming apple tree, budding with baby fruits.
He surveyed he kingdom with staccato actions, trees blooming, ducks coming out for the start of a new day. Everything seemed at one with the world. The clean air stayed perfectly still; only a light breeze would disturb the arching limbs of the dominating willow tree, branches hanging over the water. A wooden swing hung limp and tranquil from one of the great, strong arms of the willow, creaky with age.
The creatures, the water and the earth rejoiced in the weak, diluted rays of the breaking sun. Dawn was over and the twinkling amber and rose sky was a panoramic, ocean blue. A couple of candyfloss wisps hung suspended, freefall, unappreciated against the beauty of the backdrop. The sun twinkled familiarly, pleased to be watching.
Intoxicating.
More creatures were dancing in the misty gold rays; fairies, pixies, skating the water, laughing and smiling childishly. An arrow of shadily silhouetted, delicate birds fluttered ahead while a beautiful butterfly flapped around the unkempt perimeter of the water, above an immature birch.
The distant 'goodbye's of the sparrow faded as he swan away through the ocean of the sky. He was free, free to go wherever, watch the morning rituals of foreign creatures. He was only a grey dot on the harmonious background of blue sky and jade hills from the pool. He chanted the last part of his song; the fairies just heard it over the laughter.
They chanted back to him, repeating his words with wide smiles on their faces, holding hands and skimming the surface of the glossy water: 'Life's free! Life's easy! Imagine you and me, clouds of innocent ecstasy!'
The sweet voices were enough. Everything in their universe smiled.
Suddenly, the cool, clear water shaded by the overhanging limbs of the elegant willow started with a splash as a drop of salty tear broke the surface.
It had come from a young girl, arched over a treacle – coloured guitar, perched upon one of the lower branches, jutting out precariously over the water. She was as still as the air, but didn't trust it. She made no noise, played no tune. She didn't believe in it. Her face was blank and eyelashes wet.
Her feet were bare, as was her peachy pale back, except for a thin strip acting as a guitar strap. Her violet hair was tousled and she boasted a sore graze on her knee.
Everything stopped. The girl had a dreamy look of beauty about her. Time seemed to fall through her, she didn't care, she let it go. She felt alone and knew her words were wrong.
Her name was Noodle.
OK, that is actually my English, but changed her hair colour, name and what the hills were i.e. Malvern Hills to hills. :D
New chapter up soon, I hope.
REVIEWS?
Fiz xx.