This letter conveys the event of when Claudio hurt Hero, during a wedding, from the play: Much Ado About Nothing, written by William Shakespeare. This was written from the perspective of a worker eavesdropping on the occurences.
Category: letters
Island Man by Grace Nichols Interpretation
Dear Fred,
It simply callous here! It is as if I’m being fed with despicable rot. The place has splotched my sun of spring that used to blossom and bloom with ivy of light and bless. Alas, it’s all sunk into the everlasting blankness and as the monotony of the today’s and tomorrow’s, in the witch-like city, London, assassinate the spellbound symphonies of the dear Caribbean. The pixie dust in me just seems to tarnish away like rust in time, whilst my darling youth drowns in meandering tears of soot.
It is only when I imprison myself into dreams, that I can truly flutter back to life in the Caribbean, for the fiendish clock of stone that sleeps next to me, this very moment, stops the moon and its stars from emanating and reflecting my sun. Though when I do purr into my dreams, chandeliers of turquoise, aqua curls glister daisies of mirth on my skin. And, there I’m with you just gazing at the waterfalls of endless hue, hauling felicity onto us, whilst the cordial and blithe symphonies of the debonair sea birds waltz into the wonder of it all.
However, it all vanishes, turning another vein of mine into rock, when the portentous morning paints its beastly, fiery scars into my ”mind; It’s reaching me, so hurry Fred, before all of me is warped into stone…
Yours Truly,
Island Man
This is my interpretation of the poem, Island Man, in the form of a letter to one of his, made-up, companions named, Fred.
If I was Tommo from Private Peaceful…
Welcome back to my blog! Its always a pleasure to meet you again :)This post is about a letter from the perspective of Tommo (from Private Peaceful) to his mother during the time of war.
My dearest mother,
I miss you terribly. Ghastly news is all that has been hovering around me these loathsomely dread stricken today’s and tommorow’s. Just last Monday, we fought. We fought against the merciless beasts. Alas, Pete died. The last time I set eyes on him, blood was curdling out of his bare skin whilst body was being engraved into my innocent mind. Still, its impenetrable darkness lingers. I could hear gun shots as death defying as seething blood, that day. Never could escape it, not even once. Even,every second that has ticked its way through the day hear menacing gun shots too.The number who have heard them are countless just like the lifeless soldiers who ricocheted out of this world like memories made of sand.
Despite this, you wouldn’t believe me if i told you this but, I killed one of the soldiers from Belgium.The stench of remorse still murders my nostrils meanwhile, continuous lumps of dread assassinate my taste buds. How is my moribund soul supposed to scarper away from all of these ruthless and cold- blooded deeds? Unthinkable, the answer is.
Besides me and my ceaseless and grotesque horrors, I cant conceptualize the spidery claws of agony slice through his unarmed veins vigorously. In days ticking by, tears of rue still splash my dirt coated cheeks for my unforgivable act. Regrettably, the sound of throes that anguished the long gone soldier preys on me every wakeful night like demented wolves. Murderers, they are.
However alarming this may seem, I love you and Charlie is right , the war will be prevailed over. I’ll be back with not a single scar painted on my face and not a glimpse of pang shall be cast on my eye. I will be home safe and sound. Give endless love from me to Tommo. Just you wait and see, he will be prince of our town.
Love,
Your son, Tommo