Winter break is over, but the time for new ideas and submissions has just begun. Welcome to the Cellar Door, a literary magazine that celebrates the talents of students at Morton Ranch High School in the forms of poetry, fiction, short stories, essays, plays, photography, and other forms of art.
On the right we have submissions forms that you can attach to your file and then you can just email it to us. We want to hear your thoughts on love, life, death, laughter, tears, we want to hear whatever you have to say.
So submit to the Cellar Door literary magazine, you'll fit right in.
Did you get my poem, Alfred the owl? If not, here it is.
ReplyDeleteAlfred the Owl
By Ekine B.
Alfred the owl was an owl with a scowl.
Wherever he went, he'd grumble and growl.
He'd whip anyone who thought he was foul
with his mighty, wet, dripping whip (a drip-whipping) towel
He'd whip the wolves until they'd howl:
"Curse you Alfred, you whipping towel owl!!"
No one would touch Al with a ten foot dowel
Once he used his dripping whip (a drip-whipping) towel.
So he returned to his nest, growling a lonely growl,
this sighing and crying and very lonely owl.
The very next day Al met a fowl
who was digging in her garden with her favorite trowel.
He was about to whip her with his whipping towel
until she said "Hi there, I'm Sally the fowl.
You must be Al, the owl on the prowl.
Come in sit down, I'll hang up your towel.
Yes, I'm Sally but call me Sal.
This is my friend, the one in the cowl.
Alfred the owl, meet Chameleon Raoul.
Chameleon Raoul, this is Alfred the Owl."
They had a good time, they'd laugh and howl.
Even Alfred hurt many a bowel.
After that, Al trashed his towel.
After that, Al would never growl.
After that, Al wouldn't scowl.
After that, Al bought a trowel.
He helped Sal the fowl plant a garden for Raoul,
Then he gave a hug to Sal the fowl.
He joked with the wolves, until they'd howl:
Stop it, Al, I hurt a bowel.
So he returned to his tree, not feeling foul.
Alfred the flying, smiling, not-so lonely owl.