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Stories from Members
Rusty Keele

Wolves, Imagination and Rockets


We choose to go to the moon. We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy but because they are hard;

- John F. Kennedy, 1962



I Met A Wolf

I walked in the forest

Wanting to be alone

But I met a wolf

Who crossed my path.


He looked at me,

His eyes caught fire,

His hair stood on end,

He flashed his razor teeth

And pushed forth his claws.


Slowly he came towards me,

Inching closer in perfect grace,

Moving without sound.

I felt fear

Knowing this could be the end.


Would I make a hardy meal? Not today.

For he just stood there – glaring at me

But I could feel his authority

As he seemed to speak:


“GO BACK!

You who kill innocent blood,

You who take what you want,

And ravish our lands.

Go back to civilization... YOU SAVAGE!”


He turned and trotted away

Leaving the task to me

To let others know

That animals, too, own the earth.




Imagination


Deep within the shadows of my mind

Is my imagination


I see my past

Like I wish it was


I hear passionate songs

That stir my emotions


I see mesmerizing characters

From famous books


I feel deep rumblings

As hundreds of geometric shapes

Tumble round and round

And fall into place

As I finally drift off to sleep.




Exploring The Last Frontier


It began early, back in nineteen sixty one,

Kennedy issued the challenge, the race had begun.


The Russians and Americans were hoping to soon,

Be the first people to walk on the moon.


To further the work the whole country joined hands,

They wanted the moon to be American land.


They continued to think, to hope and to pray,

And a little was accomplished every single day.


John Glenn was the first American to leave the Earth,

And this began a revolutionary birth.


They thought of everything that could go wrong,

Then fixed it through work hard and long.


After eight hard years of tests and flights,

The time for the moon was just about right.


Finally, three brave men were on their way,

To the moon and back in a few short days.


In Mid July of nineteen sixty nine,

Man touched the moon for the very first time.


But while America celebrated joy and pride,

Capping off a nine year long ride.


The Russians experienced a different emotion,

Their trip to the moon had been lost in commotion.


And even though the Americans had “won”

The Russians had helped to get the job done.


I think that this race was trying to say,

“Get rid of our differences – put them away.”


If the world could possibly just pull together,

Man would be able to conquer forever.




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