A-Musing-Adolescence

A musing adolescence book cover

From ages twelve to seventeen L. M. Smith found herself frequently experiencing a need and a desire to express how she was feeling.

Fraught with the troubles of all young girls, as well as the tribulations and triumphs, she put her experiences to pen whenever something moved her. This is a collection from her heart as she experienced love, sorrow, joy, spirituality, and wonder with a passion and exuberance that only a young soul could.

From one adolescent to another, this collection is both for the young, and the young-at-heart.


GOTTA HAVE IT!

Gotta have it on Kindle!

Gotta have the Paperback!


WHAT’S THE BUZZ?

“It is aimed at and should be read by YA. The book is expertly written and engaging….” ~W.H.

“It is very well written. You can tell the the author poured herself into each and every poem and thought.” ~Abbott

“This is a collection of poems and thoughts. I loved it! A few really spoke to my heart.” ~L.A.

“L.M. Smith takes her experiences of her adolescent years and puts them into words. Each poem captivates you with a deep emotional connection… Young people can appreciate this work because it connects with them here and now. Adults can connect with it while remembering that time they experienced similar situations as a adolescent. Absolutely captivating and a must read.” ~Purple Shadow Hunter

“Amazingly well written, I forgot I was reading the musings of a child. It’s adorable, funny, touching, go check it out. It’s a short but good read.” ~Heather A.


SNEAK PEEK!

The girl sat, her feet folded beneath her in a rocking chair-
She was alone in the room, but someone else was there.

She listened to the Christmas music that played beside her-
And in the air hung the scent of hot apple cider.

Outside her window Scorpio, Orion, and the North Star did hover-
The moon hung high and distant, over her world it covered.

Its rays poured down upon the landscape-
Bits came through the window, and to darkness did o’rtake.

It pooled on her windowsill, and some caressed her knee-
It was the face of the man in the moon that she did wish to see.

Timidly she stretched forth her hand, tears streaming down her cheek-
It was comfort from his cold and blessed rays that she did seek.

A flash of blue struck the stone upon her hand-
And like it, she reflected upon the man.

With fingertips she caressed the light-
As it fell on her window stoop that night.

The touch was cold, the texture bare-
And yes, she found her comfort there.

She turned her palm and caught his eyes upon her hand-
As they came from the moon and from the man.

She closed her eyes and as she kissed the light-
Her empty walls withdrew into the night.

A warm tear froze upon her skin-
The tear her pain existed in.

It was the last, the flow deceased-
She turned her cheek to face the east.

She smiled and flung her arms out wide-
Into the wild night she cried!

“Much time has passed; it’s been a year-
And still I think of you, my dear!”

“Your face still in the moon I see-
My man in the moon still comforts me.”

She began to dance and she did spin-
The world around her spiraling in.

It changed into a fantasy land-
Created for her and her distant man.

White horses pranced on silver streams-
Kisses danced on angel’s wings.

Fairies played on snowflake leaves-
And winter cycles bloomed on trees.

A Pegasus galloped across the sky-
As gracefully as it could fly.

Before the moon it’s blackened blaze-
Blocking out those mystic rays.

And when the smiling eyes returned-
She found her phantom world adjourned.

From the rocker she arose-
Across the room she crept on toes.

In the darkness she found pen and note-
And in final rays ‘twas this she wrote.

The moon moved on, its light gave way-
But on her window sill a blue rose lay.

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