Kyle's ISP Writings

Sitting on this plane I reflect back earlier on this year. Our class always does everything together. We go on trips together, we laugh together, we even cry together. However, when I sit here in this highly uncomfortable chair I think of all the times we won’t be together like my high school graduation, my 16th birthday, maybe even my wedding. These thoughts, filled with dread and sorrow for the future, sadden me. The whole reason for this trip is to have fun so I’m going to focus on the times we can have together. We’re going to skip in the streets of London, we’re going to taste fine cuisine in France. We’ll be seeing the Mona Lisa herself, and we’ll be witnesses to the ceremony of the keys. We’re going to create life long memories with each other once again. This time there’s no holding back on the fun. We’ll laugh, we’ll cry, we’ll experience, we’ll learn. However, the most important part about it is we’ll be doing all these things together.

I woke up to the sound of a bird beautifully bearing it’s soul outside the window of my room. The sun had not yet awakened so the sky was a light grey hue. I quietly gathered my jeans and white T-shirt and slipped out of the room quickly so I didn’t disturb anyone. I started the shower. I listened to the soft pelting of water hitting the floor as I gazed at my smiling face in the mirror. I was thinking about the upcoming adventures that are sure to include Sarah laughing, Tristan poning someone, and Ty LOL-ing. But I had to get ready so I got in the shower and washed away the remnants of yesterday leaving myself bare for what today had to offer.

A bloack fence, a tall and strong tree, even a lamppost standing proudly out of the ground. These are all things, seemingly ordinary, where something special occurs. What occurs is modeling and Sarah and I do it very well. We can see a blank wall and we immediately plaster ourselves to it fusing our ideas with the striking plain contour of the wall. We are not models we are artists. We create angels with our limbs, we smile with our eyes, we captivate with our presence and we do it all for the sake of fun.

Huge buildings. That is what I see everywhere I turn. Made out of glass, of stone, of brick, even of cement. These are the buildings of London the shelters of England. They stand there as proud symbols to the power of the British people. These colossul edifices shall be here for centuries.

Windsor Castle! Such a beautiful, wonderful, magical place! Velvet and metal, and glass, and wood all encrusted with gold. There was centuries old china died in purples, and greens, and blues. There were suits of armor standing tall and proud at every corner. There were gifts from far away, captured artifacts presented to royalty, and many other various trinkets worth unmentionable amounts of money. The rooms holding furniture layered with silk, and satin, and velvet. The dining rooms lined in fine old wood layered in gold carvings, cut with the softest cloth on the walls. The halls painted with mottos in Latin, German, and French, hung with crests of all different colors, shapes and sizes. There are no words to describe such a beautiful like that. There are so many stories describing a prince or princess who aren’t allowed to leave a palace and feel trapped. However, if my palace was anything like the Windsor one than like Ferdinand “Space enough have I in such a prison.”

I’ve had a love for history all of my life, but I found the cabinet war rooms to be utterly tedious. I didn’t take much interest in the procedures or drills that the people who live in the war rooms had to do . However, I do admire and respect the people for living underground for such a long period of time. However, Westminster Abbey was amazing! There were crypts for kings and burial places of famous writers and poets. Like the Windsor Castle the abbey was encrusted with gold paint and marble statues were placed randomly throughout the halls. I, being the Latin scholar that I am, tried to decipher the Latin writing on some of the plaques. The ceiling was so high. The stained glass windows showered colored light down upon us as we walked throughout the halls. The only thing I didn’t like about it was all the people that were there. They seemed to ruin the holy atmosphere that was there.

Light.

Cascading down like angels hair, bathing us ‘till we glow.
Shining through our darkest night, more pure and bright than snow.
No word, nor weapon, nor action could ever defy, the might and power.
Evil, demons, and all creatures of darkness in it’s presence do cower.

Sonnet.

The sun in the sky passes by so very slow.
I sit here on a bench, the morning air crisp and still.
I’m out her in the cold, writing of my own free will.
Expanding my senses, letting my imagination grow.

The sun playing hide and seek with the world is starting to show.
The sound of the birds singing is anything but shrill.
The fierce intent is out of death’s eyes today, he not ready to kill.
Today is going to be good this I know.

I feel like a king wearing a crown.
The jewels and the gold do brightly shine.
So brightly in fact that most look down.

I will love this place ‘till the end of time.
The country so stunning in it I could drown.
The beautiful picture of it forever in my mind.