Lemonade Poetry Book Novels & Stories

Power was efficient when it didn’t have to shout. Later at recess, I saw her with that friend—Bethany—sitting in the corner like two awkward birds. I felt a pull at the sight of them, the same tug I feel when a plan checks out. I walked over, my twenty-dollar lemonade in hand because I liked the idea of ruining the picture fully. One toss, and the liquid hit the book. The soft rip of pages was satisfying in the way a good sentence should be.

That night, Liora dreamed of fire and moonlight — and a voice calling softly: > Liora … remember. --- The Hidden Book Years passed. Liora became quiet, thoughtful. The other children loved her, but they didn’t understand her. She often wandered to the ruins at the edge of the village — a crumbling temple swallowed by vines. Inside, she found an old, dust-covered book. Its cover was etched with one word: Remembrance. When she opened it, the pages glowed faintly. The words rearranged themselves into light as she read.

"Don't tell Dustin though, he'd never let me live it down." "My lips are sealed." I chuckled. Liam sat a small package on my lap, wrapped in some cheesy Christmas wrapping paper. Little shimmery Santa Clause's danced around on the paper, a jolly grin on his face. I unwrapped the package gingerly, my jaw dropping as I stared at the familiar cover. It was my Dad's poetry book. Obviously not his book, but a replica of it. This one looked brand new, not torn or faded by time. "I always see you carrying that book around." Liam shrugged, his face turning a light shade of pink. "Figured you'd like a new one. Yours is kind of falling apart."

For the challengers, none shall be left alive. I didn’t understand what that meant but it sounded like a beautiful poem. I went to the front of the book and searched for the author’s name. Strange, there was no author written. There wasn’t a title for the book either. I quickly put the book back in the shelf. Nora wouldn’t take it lightly if she found me reading instead of cleaning. I went back to work, ignoring the priceless words I read. *** Lexa was done with the study room. She went out of the mansion to see the garden again. This was her favorite place in the mansion. She could stay there all day.

The sky was splashed with brilliant stars which illuminated not only the atmosphere but also people's hearts. Nneoma sat on her bed, munching popcorn. At that moment, she reached for a poetry book on her cupboard which she had purchased at a bookshop during the holidays. It was titled; Chimes of Golden Tunes. 'I've not read the poems,' she murmured opening the book. She positioned herself well on the bed and flipped the pages. Arriving on the first poem, she read the title slowly. 'The Iridescent Stars; mmh… Typical of tonight.'

But she… didn’t flinch. Lena walked over to a little table display and picked up a thin, cloth-bound book. She walked over to him, holding it out like an offering. *The Quiet Between Lightning Strikes.* A poetry book. The cover was old and nubbly, the title scribbled in fine silver ink. Julian stared at it like it was an alien thing. "What's this?" "A book," she said, smiling. "I told you. I don't—"

I say and go up to my room. I drop into my blue bean bag in front of the fish tank. I take the Poems, book out of my jacket pocket and hold it up. Easter Holidays is the first poem in this book. It's followed by Dura Navis and I don't know what to do with this other than to summarize what I thought these poems meant in tenth grade. I've never gotten gifts for my birthday. It never felt like a celebration for us. "Have you seen my other boot?" Miles asks. I turn back to see Micca toss it to him from the bed. "Sweet,"

In it where greenish slimy substances, “This is what the water truly looks like” Edgar smiled at her proudly. “Woah!” Dylan smiled at her, “That was awesome Cleopatra” Edgar walked towards a small stack of books, looked through them and slipped one out. It was a large book with red leather cover. It was dusty indicating it had not been opened in a long time, “We have been looking in the wrong books Cleopatra”, the book landed with a thud sending dusts in the air, “This is a book on poison”

Out of boredom, she walked over to a small open bookshelf on one side and casually read a book to pass the time. Such a large room seemed much more empty. There was always a cold feeling when one was alone here. But Leona didn't care and just wanted to wait until the banquet downstairs was over. Leona was stunned when she opened the title page of the book. It read, "To Emma of the Quiet Years, wishing you well. The writing is. Jovanka." This book was published by... Jovanka? Leona flipped to the back, and the author was clearly written with the word Jovanka.

"For protection. You seem like you need it, girl." "My favorite book of poetry," Mr. Zuo said, handing her a leather-bound volume. "You mentioned enjoying verse the other night." "Did I?" Deja asked, dazed. Mrs. Zuo offered a small, intricately carved wooden box. "Specialty teas from our family garden. For when you need a moment of peace." "And these," Lily grinned, presenting a pair of ridiculous, fuzzy slippers shaped like dragons. "Because your feet are always cold, and these match your personality. Fierce but secretly cozy."