Creative Writing

One of the members of the Williamsburg Branch creative writing group has offered to share her some of her writing.

Story submission- prompt was:  song

On a cold November morning, I took my first breath of air. My mother immediately broke into song. “I Will Always Love You” ooh ooh…

That seemed to set the tone for the rest of my life, one song after another. Dad is a musician, so I’ve heard all types of music. At times it drove me “Crazy”.

My dad would sing “I’m On The Top Of The World”; while my mother sang back “You Ain’t Nothing  But A Hound Dog”. It’s times like these I wanted to sing “Send In The Clowns”.

Our family grew. There were five of us kids, all singing a different tune. Our repertoire stretched from “The Platters” hits to “Elvis” crooning love ballads. Upon catching my brother experimenting with his first cigarette, I sang “Baby, Baby don’t Get Hooked on THESE”.

Whatever happened to songs that were written for kids? “How Much Is That Doggy In The Window”? or “B-I-N-G-O, Bingo Was His Name, Oh”. We were melody snobs. The closest we sang was “Purple People Eater” or “Yellow Submarine”.

On a Saturday morning, after our chores were done, we tuned the TV to The Monkeys. Similar to the Beetles, but just not quite the same. It was just fun to sing, “Hey, Hey We’re The Monkeys, People Say We Monkey Around”.

I grew into adolescence with “Itsy Bitsy, Teeny Weeny, Yellow Polka dot Bikini”. Praying that my Mom would let me wear one and hoping I grew something to put in it. on uor thirteenth birthday we got to have a huge party. I found a pair of faded, bell bottoms and a red bandana to tie around my chest. My Mom sang “Wild Thing” with orders to change my clothes. While changing I hummed “Its My Party And I’ll Cry If I Want To”, changing the lyrics to “I’ll Dress How I Want To”!

As the years passed, I heard Tammy Wynette singing “D-I-V-O-R-C-E” except it was my parents’ voices. When questioned about my crying, I answered “Smoke Gets In Your Eyes”. Never admitting to the real reason.

Growing up on a farm you think at the drop of a hat I’d break into the John Denver song “Country Roads”, but I was already home and I didn’t need a road to take me there. I’d much rather experience a “Rocky Mountain High”. It just sounded exciting.

Before  I knew it I was in love, and not “Puppy Love” either. I definitely heard “I’m Getting Married In The Morning” mixed with “Get Me To The Church On Time”. Yes, I was in the midst of “White Lace and Promises”.

Now I’m singing “Memories”. My family is one of “My Favorite Things”. I listen as they sing songs that will become their life’s melody. Music speaks volumes, when we are quiet enough to hear its message. Just sit back and let “rivers of Joy” flood thru your life.

R. Weaver


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