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Lara Isabel

Canada

“Which of us has not felt that the character we are reading in the printed page is more real than the person standing beside us?”

Message from Writer

Hello! I'm Lara, a thirteen-year-old aspiring author whose best friends live within her laptop's Pages application. When I'm not reading, writing, or doing homework, my life consists of drinking tea, playing board games, and singing along to my ukulele.
Any feedback that you have for me is welcome; I am always seeking to improve myself as both a person and a writer.

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2 months ago

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Lara Isabel (Canada) published:

Ours

PROMPT: My December Competition 2017

    December is a special month of the year.

    Imagine a perfect Canadian Christmas night. It would be December, of course. The children would be camping by a star-topped Christmas tree in hopes of seeing a certain fabled, fur-lined saint. Outside, if you were to go outside, would exude the air of a winter bundled away in a black and white blanket of stars. It would glow with spectral pixie lights that can't be seen at any...

Seeking Peer Reviews

2 months ago

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Lara Isabel (Canada) earned a badge Competitor

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Lara Isabel (Canada) started following GodsGirl4 (United States)

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Lara Isabel (Canada) started following Sydni Whitfield

2 months ago

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Lara Isabel (Canada) earned a badge Leader

2 months ago

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Lara Isabel (Canada) published:

A Garden of Dreams

PROMPT: The Peace of Wild Things

Some say that we are all special,
And some say that we're all the same,
But when can we think of a time where
The people won't lead you astray?

And so I take comfort in knowing,
That each night when push comes to shove,
The people will all be a-sleeping,
And I can fly high, high above

These meadows of mine are abounding,
With rivers of pure liquid gold,
Because when the larks are a-climbing,
A story begins to...

Seeking Peer Reviews

2 months ago

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Lara Isabel (Canada) started following Phoebe L (United States)

2 months ago

Published Work

My December Competition 2017

Ours

    December is a special month of the year.

    Imagine a perfect Canadian Christmas night. It would be December, of course. The children would be camping by a star-topped Christmas tree in hopes of seeing a certain fabled, fur-lined saint. Outside, if you were to go outside, would exude the air of a winter bundled away in a black and white blanket of stars. It would glow with spectral pixie lights that can't be seen at any other time of year.
    And there would be snow. Snow everywhere, falling, falling, falling. 'I'm dreaming of a white Christmas,' goes the song. So that's what we would be doing. Hoping that, come Christmas morning, we would be 'walking in a winter wonderland.'
    There would be an unmistakable reverence vibrating in each voice, mixed intermittently with the scents of sugary cinnamon and freshly baked cookies. Christmas Eve is the only time of year when I...

The Peace of Wild Things

A Garden of Dreams

Some say that we are all special,
And some say that we're all the same,
But when can we think of a time where
The people won't lead you astray?

And so I take comfort in knowing,
That each night when push comes to shove,
The people will all be a-sleeping,
And I can fly high, high above

These meadows of mine are abounding,
With rivers of pure liquid gold,
Because when the larks are a-climbing,
A story begins to unfold

A land where impossible isn't,
A girl trapped inside her own mind,
A garden of dreams is sufficient,
To bottle what she keeps inside

A secret to end all before it,
A passion that she's never known,
A pen and a paper to share it,
With a world that she's eager to own

And inside my world so ebullient,
I'll watch the pixies a-play,
Dreading the dawn so efficient,
That chases the garden away

Back to a world I...

A Dream: The Lifeline Project

    A blonde reporter’s face appears on the screen, permeated by a grim and yet admittedly photogenic grimace. “Due to unexpected complications with the military’s new super-weapon, the sun has begun going supernova. People have gathered outside the major government institutions all over the world, begging for answers and even resorting to violence where none are forthcoming. Now, the latest space program, the Lifeline Project, has come forward with a way to save the human race.”
    My mother glides in and switches off the TV. “Tranquility, you know I don’t like—” Suddenly, the earth shakes. “Earthquake!” she screams, which doesn’t make any sense because we’re not anywhere near the plate boundaries. I whip around to get my little brother Angel, but he’s gone. “Angel!” I cry, and Conlan, my older brother, appears with blood running down his face. “Grab my hand!” he calls. I reach towards him as the room begins to fill with light, and suddenly I’m alone...

My December Competition 2017

Ours

    December is a special month of the year.

    Imagine a perfect Canadian Christmas night. It would be December, of course. The children would be camping by a star-topped Christmas tree in hopes of seeing a certain fabled, fur-lined saint. Outside, if you were to go outside, would exude an air of a winter bundled away in a black and white blanket of stars, glowing with spectral pixie lights that can't be seen at any other time of year.
    And there would be snow. Snow everywhere, falling, falling, falling. 'I'm dreaming of a white Christmas,' goes the song. So that's what we would be doing. Hoping that, come Christmas morning, we would be 'walking in a winter wonderland.'
    There would be an unmistakable reverence vibrating in each voice, mixed intermittently with the scents of sugary cinnamon and freshly baked cookies. Christmas Eve is the only time of year when I would be...

Ten Words to You

Loved

Winds, walls.
Plush blankets, crystalline electric candles glow.
Warmth.
Loved.

The Art of Specificity

Assassins

    She walks through the door.

    She approaches the great oaken doors, traces a bare hand down their grooves, and then pushes them open just enough for her to slip through.

    Slowly, slowly. We mustn't wake the children, she chides herself as she glides soundlessly towards the intricately carved panels that are the palace doors. Then she stops and pulls down her crimson hood, shaking out a mushroom cap of pale blue hair and smiling as she does so. Her alabaster hand reaches up, groping at her head, searching... ah! There it is. She pulls out a tarnished hairpin and rolls it about in her right hand as her left comes up to trace the familiar grooves of the door, looking for the ever-elusive keyhole designed to keep people like her out. But she is well trained, and soon her fingernail catches on a silhouette of cool, tangy metal. She has found it, she knows, but she pokes around a bit...

Ten Words to You

Loved

Winds, walls.
Plush blankets, crystalline electric candles glow.
Warmth.
Loved.

Birdsong

An Untitled Song

I:



This is not something that they will write down.
This is not something that they care to write down.
These glistening dewdrops of magical music,
These radiant sun rays of magical music.
Because they are the wings of the world.
Because they are the wings of our world.
And that is all.
But that is not all.

II:

"It is an odd thing, this nest,"
Proudly proclaims the robin red-breast,
In a twittering rhapsody that only the earliest of birds will have.
The rest of it is up for grabs, but not
Not this half,
Not this half.

Sparkling, shining in the light of a moon,
The song will rest, but soon...

Phrooo, tee te tweee,
Caw-caw, caw, sssssssss, whoosh,
He hee, Auwwww, roo,
Yitter yitter yitter yee,
Thwi-i-i-i-ill.

And then:

"Sally want a cracker!"
Parrots are birds too, don't forget.

And so is the rooster, "cock-a-doodle-doo!"
They are the outliers and outcasts,
but their song is just as...

My December Competition 2017

Ours

    December is a special month of the year.

    Imagine a perfect Canadian Christmas night. It would be December, of course. Little boys and little girls would be camping by a star-topped Christmas tree in hopes of seeing a certain fabled, fur-lined saint. Outside, if you were to go outside, would exude an air of a winter bundled away in a black and white blanket of stars, glowing with spectral pixie lights that can't be seen at any other time of year.
    And there would be snow. Snow everywhere, falling, falling, falling. 'I'm dreaming of a white Christmas,' goes the song. So that's what we would be doing. Hoping that, come Christmas morning, we will be 'walking in a winter wonderland.'
    There would be an unmistakable reverence vibrating in the voices of carollers and family members alike, mixed intermittently with the scents of sugary cinnamon and freshly baked cookies. Christmas Eve is...

Lara Isabel's 7 Likes

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6 Likes from Others

A Garden of Dreams

Liked by 3 people

Assassins

Liked by 4 people

A Dream: The Lifeline Project

Liked by 2 people

Loved

Liked by 3 people

Ours

Liked by 1 person

A Dream: The Lifeline Project

Liked by 1 person

Good neighbor

We like your photo and your biography.

Earned 3 months ago


Self editor

You've published multiple versions of the same piece

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Follower

You're following over five other writers.

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You're following over 10 other writers right now.

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Leader

You're being followed by over five other writers!

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Publisher

You've gone live!

Earned 3 months ago


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Love your work - you've read and favorited over ten pieces published by others

Earned 3 months ago


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Thanks for entering a competition.

Earned 2 months ago


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