Friday, May 1, 2026

Assignment: Simile

 

Similes from Georgia:
The old tree was like a silent confessor, listening to my whispered stories from years past.
The rain fell like a soft curtain protecting the world.  
My thoughts drifted like water, touching nothing yet holding everything.  
The old tree listened patiently holding my whispered stories from years past
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Beginning a Journal

 

From Georgia: A first journal entry: 
I love my grandson, my cat, and my kids. Each has a unique way of filling my heart and making my house feel like a home. 
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Assignment: Metaphors

Metaphors from Georgia 
The rain was a gentle hand, smoothing the rattled trees.  
The tree was an old guard, keeping a watch over the castle in the woods.  

Her thoughts were a slow river, carrying dead memories deep in her bones.  

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Assignment: Simile

  Similes from Georgia:   The old tree was like a silent confessor, listening to my whispered stories from years past.   The rain fell like ...

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