This is a short story I wrote for creative writing.  All I did was take ten nouns and ten verbs and randomly paired them up; I wrote a story with the ten sentences.

 

The sun ran as fast as it could, trying to win the race.  However, the moon jumped ahead in a mighty leap and claimed the sky as its own.  The night loved to be in control.  The entire time the race went on though, the stars slept and were unable to be seen.  Suddenly, the fire called out to the sky, challenging the race’s winner and brightening the world more than the usual nocturnal dimness.  A sword stared at the landscape, daring something to face it.  Time passed by and the sword feel to the ground, gems spinning off of it as it hit the hard rock.  A beautiful metal flower clanged softly as the wearer slid to the earth.  A feather climbed as the pillow was smashed.  The red cat stretched as it moved from its original place to sleep on the person on the ground; he had obviously realized that it was time for bed as well.  Thus the night’s rule went on, soothing the creatures of the land into a slumber… the power of the moon was strong.

Nouns:                 Verbs:

Sun                        Run
Moon                    Jump
Night                     Love
Stars                      Sleep
Fire                        Call
Sword                   Stare
Gems                    Spin
Feather                 Climb
Cat                         Stretch

I wrote this poem for my creative writing class.  It has a few lists in it.  See if you can find them!

 

I stared at the red rock below.

It stared back at me.
I struck a pose with my camera to remember my victory—
The day I conquered this canyon.
Then something caught the interest of my deep vibrant eyes,
Something that made me pause before I clicked the camera again.
The land stared—defiantly—back at me.
“What have you done to defeat me?” it asked with a half a smile.
“Well,” I replied, “I’ve stepped where none have stepped.”
“You think so?  Well look again, you stranger.
See the trails etched upon my ground?
Those are proof that you’re not the first who’s stepped around.
See the marks upon my walls, the black and white and red?
Those aren’t things that say this land’s not tread.
Look at the camps, the tools, the homes!
All this evidence is that creatures roam.
Those in the past have conquered before.
Do you think you’ve left your score?”
Humbled greatly as I found each thing,
I looked my shoes and saw my footprints…
They would be gone the next time it rained.
I saw the flag I pushed into the earth…
It, too, would be gone the next strong breeze.
At last, I viewed the picture I’d took…
It could vanish with any carelessness.
I had not come here very first,
Nor even left a trace.
A desire filled me bitter and clear,
One to record that I was here…
Or there…
Or anywhere!
“Do not worry, traveler man.
There plenty of ways to get a mark—
For example, why not make this a park?
I wouldn’t suggest destroying the land
Or even making lots of fans,
Those two things won’t serve you at all—
Why, that’s the way for marks to fall!
So pick a plan,
young traveler man,
And maybe with some luck,
You’ll look back here and see with joy
The mark that you have struck.”
I smiled at the vast red rock and thought about its words.
Perhaps my picture, shoes, and flag…
Might in the past begin to lag.