I have decided to start posting my "works-in-progress" on this blog in hopes to stay motivated and hopefully see some of this stuff through.

I am always fine-tuning my writings, so feel free to leave comments, point out grammatical errors, or any other sort of feedback that you think might help.

Sunday, September 7, 2008

Jenna Jing Loved to Sing

Jenna Jing Loved to Sing
at day or night about anything.
She'd wake up and jump out of bed,
singing good morning to her brother Fred.

For breakfast she would sing her melody
for whole wheat toast and strawberry jelly.
At the dinner table she would bellow,
"Will someone please pass me the JELL-O?"

Wherever Jenna Jing was at
she preferred to sing rather than chat.
She sang to her friends on the playground;
to neighbors and store clerks all around.

At first they thought it was quite cute.
They said she sounded just like a flute.
But day after day of Jenna's singing
left some folks with their ears ringing.

They began to cringe as she went by.
They'd roll their eyes and give a sigh.
Nonetheless, Jenna sang out-
getting louder and louder without a doubt.

Then one day Jenna's voice got worse.
She could barely sing; her throat was hoarse.
Her mom took her to see Dr. Titus.
He said, "Jenna's got Laryngitis."

"What is that?" Jenna's mom inquired.
The doctor said, "Her voice got tired."
For two whole weeks Jenna's voice was out.
She couldn't whisper, talk, sing or shout.

The neighborhood was very quiet.
The people were happy. They couldn't deny it.
So Jenna just sat at home.
With no way to sing, she felt alone.

Near the end of the two weeks the townspeople grew bored.
Where was that voice they once adored?
In spite of the quiet they enjoyed so much,
they missed Jenna's singing just a touch.

Then Jenna's voice finally came to.
She skipped through the park singing, "Loo-loo-loo."
Her friends came to play. The townspeople smiled.
They were glad to hear the songs they hadn't heard in a while.

They all reached a decision, even Jenna Jing.
As long as it wasn't too much, they liked to hear her sing.

Copyright 2000. Emma C Miller. Any reproduction of this story may not be made without express written consent of the author.


Always a Critic...