April 4-
Phoebe sent me a text first thing in the morning.
[Helga, I really need to talk to you about something. When are you free?]
I am happy that I turn my ringer off while I sleep, that girl wakes up over an hour before me. I get back to her on my way to school.
[I have practice tonight. Bubble testing this week, be home like 3 tomorrow. Whatsup?]
Even though we have standardized testing, I still have two hour practices.
[OK. See you tomorrow.]
[Hey no fair. Tell me.]
[I will tomorrow]
I don't really get to reply, as I am at school and almost late. So I get to my homeroom and start writing in my trusty pink notebook- an ode to my wonderful boyfriend.
Junior Prom
The girls at school, your sister too, barrage
me day and night about the junior dance.
They say I must choose perfect camouflage
and let you know my colors true; perchance
my love seek out a vivacious corsage
that cannot compete with me at first glance.
We rent a limo with our entourage
and live it up and dine before we prance.
In line we wait, and looking to and fro
before standing in the lights, a fella
and his gal- we pose and let the flash glow.
Our love is not a checkstand novella;
forever will I cherish this photo,
from the day I am your Cinderella.
-HGP
* Occitan sonnet [ABAB-ABAB-CDCDCD]
