We climbed to the roof to watch the stars. There was your favorite place. I made my wish you made yours. We closed our eyes and sealed our promises with a tender kiss.
The stars dangle above us.
Broken glass set in a blue mosaic.
Leaning against the red shingles,
I dig my fingers into the moss,
And listen to your breathing.
he scaled the side of the bleached building with ease, clinging like an animal to the creeping vines and cracks in the brickwork, and when he reached finally the place where wall and roof met, his arms screamed with the effort of hoisting the rest of him up and over. he fell flat on the ground and took but a second to breathe before he was scrambling to his feet and sprinting to the far side. his toes brushed the place where the roof ended, and if he had looked down he would have balked at the sight of the three-story drop that awaited should his balance and a decade of trapeze-work fail him. but he did not look. he jumped and just managed to catch the edge of the neighboring building’s roof. his body crashed into the wall and the breath was knocked out of him with a wheeze; there would be bruises later. but his grip held true.
Love to see the street from here, its a place to hangout with friends an stare at the noon, and afternoon. Nice place to hear distant events. some times check the roof is a best practice.
Marion crawled out on the roof to watch the stars, clutched in her hand was a thermos of hot chocolate. It was nearly Christmas, and the snow made the roof slippery, but she was going to watch the stars anyway. This was the flat part of the roof, anyway. She’d done this before.
Roofs can offer protection but they can also be frought with danger. That’s what he discovered, the night he tried stepping out on one. It was slippery, steep, the descent lowering quickly into a black abyss below. Even with the moonlight, he was unsure.
giving security for rain. children in africa dont always have a roof which covers their heads and giving them security. the chimney is on the roof and throught he chimney santa can come into the house and give the children joy and happiness (presents ;)).
there isn’t a place in the world that M would rather be right now, even though there are dead leaves clogged up all along the gritty corners and by the rain pipe. S had been here, and that made all the world melt away under him, leaving only the touch of the sky. this isn’t a place in the world. this is the world.
I was sitting on the roof one night when the moon was up. The cat was hunting down below in the yard, and way down in the valley the river was showing like a silver band. Behind me, in the woods an owl was hooting in the moonlight, and the air was warm and comforting. It was August, my girl had left me, and I was contemplating suicide. Suddenly a man walked into the yard. His way of walking indicated that he was used to long treks, he was sort of swaying as he walked. On his head was a slush hat,a knapsack was on his back, and in the moonlight I could see that he was wearing large boots on his feet. Suddenly he noticed me on the roof, stopped abruptly and put his forefinger across his lips to indicate that I should be silent.
We used to go up on the roof
when it was hot in the city and
we’d talk and talk about how
one day our life would take us
far away from this roof and all
the other rooftops growing up
in the Queens air.
Roof. Roofs are protecting, they keep us safe from the ferocious elements of our planet – wind, rain, snow. Roofs can also kill. They can fault, collapse, trap and murder. They come in all kinds of majestic shapes and sizes and, sometimes, even as I write this, I try to compare roofs to things – objects, people or places. Then it hit me – roofs are just like people.
The roof was covered with birds. Short, tall, fat, skinny. This could only mean thing: not only was the house a nice landing strip, there must have been a dead animal nearby. They waited as it was ripe for the eating.
The roof of the world, painted across the midnight sky, painted in little ink drops upon my back… which your fingertips so lovingly caress. Where time stands still and I am, for once, on the roof of my soul, looking down into oblivion.
i live in a small town where it rains a lot. and i mean all the time, which is fine because i love the rain, but my roof doesn’t. i live in an old house which means my roof is old which is what makes it leak all the time. but everytime it leaks, will is always there to fix it too, everytime.
house top of house, red, triangle shaped, wound dog makes, foor backwards foor sounds like four its funny except four is unlucky too and so, is a roof unlucky?
The roof of the building suddenly seemed higher than it really is. She stares down at all the ant like people, debating on whether or not they’re friends or foes. Then without warning, she spreads her arms and jumps.
…Is roof the only word this site gives you? Seriously? This is annoying. I wanted to try again, with a word that’s not so… I dunno, boring? Something more inspiring. But no. No, I just got roof again. I was given the same dull word that brought me to my metaphorical knees shortly before. Damn you, Oneword. Damn you, and your dull word.
They were tired. It was only to be expected though. They’d been working all day, and for what? To fix their roof. To keep their shelter intact. To keep them warm, and out of the snow, wind, rain. It was a reason to work, even if they didn’t want to. And it gave them something to do that day. God this sucks.
The soul leaves at night
climbs up onto the roof in her nightdress
and she straddles the ridge
and sings wildsong
about places far away
about places she will never go.
“The roof never seemed so high from the ground!” Shouted 7-year-old Timmy. Firefighters and policemen and neighbors were all around the barn when Timmy’s parents finally found him.
“Timmy!!!” His mother screamed.
“Boy what are you doing?!” Shouted his father.
He was exceptionally beautiful. Not just in body, but in mind as well. His character was pure, and his face reflected it. He had the strange ability to determine value almost instantly. This came in handy when he started meeting people and going into business for himself. His hands were always ready.
the roof , the roof is on fire. literally the roof was on fire at trader joes last week. we had to be evacuated and people had to stop grocery shopping. PUT DOWN THE GROCERIES. the firemen. enough said. we tried to bring them cookies. we thought they were bringing cookies on the roof but it was a fire hydrant.
I was on the roof the of building and i saw my mom and the ground, she yelled at me for being on the roof. She thought i was going to fall. But i didnt.
Once upon a time, there was a man in the habit of sitting on my rooftop. I know not why he did so, but he was there, a constant presence that filled my heart with wonderment for many years. I never knew his name; I only knew that he seeked companionship through my smalltow neighborhood. And I came to love him. But it was the kind of love that comes from a fondness of familiarity.
The roof is on fire. The Earth really is coming to an end. This morning the meteor showers began, then the earthquakes. If we’re lucky, the ensuing hurricane will put out all the fires, which would be a good thing since the tornado wiped out the fire station.
i was going to actually try to write something
but im pretty much hating myself right now
and everything about me.
why is it so hard for me to be okay with myself?
if i had the balls to jump off of the roof and be someone new, i’d do it.
the roof over my head is a revolving scene of stars and sky. the one time i remember laying on my back with the skate boys laughing and not knowing what was happening. too many drugs. the shooting stars, shooting smack. shooting something. and now i can’t stay put. from here to there and soon again to move and see where the road takes me. another state, another day.
The roof needed alot of work. The shingles were in a state of disrepair. The house had not been kept up for a while. The showed the lack of care for the house that had yet to become a home.
The rain on the roof acted as a soothing agent on the the day on the stressful day she had had. She lay onto of the sheets in the hotel suite, watching the news with the lights switched of and the tin of quality street on her lap.
We use to lay ontop of the roof and gaze at the constellations, had I known he’d join those same stars so soon I would have held on a little tighter and kissed him just a little longer!
They lay there, staring up at the stars. That was what they were supposed to do in this world, right? Stargaze? Coming from a world without them, the idea was strange… but he couldn’t argue with the peaceful feeling that came over him as she nestled into his side, and her warmth and closeness insulated his own body. He pulled her closer and smiled. He could get used to this.
We climbed to the roof to watch the stars. There was your favorite place. I made my wish you made yours. We closed our eyes and sealed our promises with a tender kiss.
The stars dangle above us.
Broken glass set in a blue mosaic.
Leaning against the red shingles,
I dig my fingers into the moss,
And listen to your breathing.
i wish these rooftops
were like the ones in
Mary Poppins-
the world at your feet
on a cobblestone street
with such endless
innocent
believing
he scaled the side of the bleached building with ease, clinging like an animal to the creeping vines and cracks in the brickwork, and when he reached finally the place where wall and roof met, his arms screamed with the effort of hoisting the rest of him up and over. he fell flat on the ground and took but a second to breathe before he was scrambling to his feet and sprinting to the far side. his toes brushed the place where the roof ended, and if he had looked down he would have balked at the sight of the three-story drop that awaited should his balance and a decade of trapeze-work fail him. but he did not look. he jumped and just managed to catch the edge of the neighboring building’s roof. his body crashed into the wall and the breath was knocked out of him with a wheeze; there would be bruises later. but his grip held true.
Love to see the street from here, its a place to hangout with friends an stare at the noon, and afternoon. Nice place to hear distant events. some times check the roof is a best practice.
Marion crawled out on the roof to watch the stars, clutched in her hand was a thermos of hot chocolate. It was nearly Christmas, and the snow made the roof slippery, but she was going to watch the stars anyway. This was the flat part of the roof, anyway. She’d done this before.
Roofs can offer protection but they can also be frought with danger. That’s what he discovered, the night he tried stepping out on one. It was slippery, steep, the descent lowering quickly into a black abyss below. Even with the moonlight, he was unsure.
giving security for rain. children in africa dont always have a roof which covers their heads and giving them security. the chimney is on the roof and throught he chimney santa can come into the house and give the children joy and happiness (presents ;)).
there isn’t a place in the world that M would rather be right now, even though there are dead leaves clogged up all along the gritty corners and by the rain pipe. S had been here, and that made all the world melt away under him, leaving only the touch of the sky. this isn’t a place in the world. this is the world.
I was sitting on the roof one night when the moon was up. The cat was hunting down below in the yard, and way down in the valley the river was showing like a silver band. Behind me, in the woods an owl was hooting in the moonlight, and the air was warm and comforting. It was August, my girl had left me, and I was contemplating suicide. Suddenly a man walked into the yard. His way of walking indicated that he was used to long treks, he was sort of swaying as he walked. On his head was a slush hat,a knapsack was on his back, and in the moonlight I could see that he was wearing large boots on his feet. Suddenly he noticed me on the roof, stopped abruptly and put his forefinger across his lips to indicate that I should be silent.
We used to go up on the roof
when it was hot in the city and
we’d talk and talk about how
one day our life would take us
far away from this roof and all
the other rooftops growing up
in the Queens air.
Roof. Roofs are protecting, they keep us safe from the ferocious elements of our planet – wind, rain, snow. Roofs can also kill. They can fault, collapse, trap and murder. They come in all kinds of majestic shapes and sizes and, sometimes, even as I write this, I try to compare roofs to things – objects, people or places. Then it hit me – roofs are just like people.
The roof was covered with birds. Short, tall, fat, skinny. This could only mean thing: not only was the house a nice landing strip, there must have been a dead animal nearby. They waited as it was ripe for the eating.
The roof of the world, painted across the midnight sky, painted in little ink drops upon my back… which your fingertips so lovingly caress. Where time stands still and I am, for once, on the roof of my soul, looking down into oblivion.
i live in a small town where it rains a lot. and i mean all the time, which is fine because i love the rain, but my roof doesn’t. i live in an old house which means my roof is old which is what makes it leak all the time. but everytime it leaks, will is always there to fix it too, everytime.
house top of house, red, triangle shaped, wound dog makes, foor backwards foor sounds like four its funny except four is unlucky too and so, is a roof unlucky?
The roof of the building suddenly seemed higher than it really is. She stares down at all the ant like people, debating on whether or not they’re friends or foes. Then without warning, she spreads her arms and jumps.
…Is roof the only word this site gives you? Seriously? This is annoying. I wanted to try again, with a word that’s not so… I dunno, boring? Something more inspiring. But no. No, I just got roof again. I was given the same dull word that brought me to my metaphorical knees shortly before. Damn you, Oneword. Damn you, and your dull word.
They were tired. It was only to be expected though. They’d been working all day, and for what? To fix their roof. To keep their shelter intact. To keep them warm, and out of the snow, wind, rain. It was a reason to work, even if they didn’t want to. And it gave them something to do that day. God this sucks.
The soul leaves at night
climbs up onto the roof in her nightdress
and she straddles the ridge
and sings wildsong
about places far away
about places she will never go.
“The roof never seemed so high from the ground!” Shouted 7-year-old Timmy. Firefighters and policemen and neighbors were all around the barn when Timmy’s parents finally found him.
“Timmy!!!” His mother screamed.
“Boy what are you doing?!” Shouted his father.
On the roof, on top of it,
you shove your stick, lick lick
in my a Nus,
He was exceptionally beautiful. Not just in body, but in mind as well. His character was pure, and his face reflected it. He had the strange ability to determine value almost instantly. This came in handy when he started meeting people and going into business for himself. His hands were always ready.
the roof had tons of snow on it.
the roof is the top of the house.
When santa clause brings little kids gifts he goes on the roof to get to the chimney.. Every house has a roof! i hope
the roof , the roof is on fire. literally the roof was on fire at trader joes last week. we had to be evacuated and people had to stop grocery shopping. PUT DOWN THE GROCERIES. the firemen. enough said. we tried to bring them cookies. we thought they were bringing cookies on the roof but it was a fire hydrant.
I was on the roof the of building and i saw my mom and the ground, she yelled at me for being on the roof. She thought i was going to fall. But i didnt.
the roof has a hole in it .
the roof has a hole in it .
the roof has a hole in it .
the roof has a hole in it .
Once upon a time, there was a man in the habit of sitting on my rooftop. I know not why he did so, but he was there, a constant presence that filled my heart with wonderment for many years. I never knew his name; I only knew that he seeked companionship through my smalltow neighborhood. And I came to love him. But it was the kind of love that comes from a fondness of familiarity.
The roof is on fire. The Earth really is coming to an end. This morning the meteor showers began, then the earthquakes. If we’re lucky, the ensuing hurricane will put out all the fires, which would be a good thing since the tornado wiped out the fire station.
i was going to actually try to write something
but im pretty much hating myself right now
and everything about me.
why is it so hard for me to be okay with myself?
if i had the balls to jump off of the roof and be someone new, i’d do it.
the roof over my head is a revolving scene of stars and sky. the one time i remember laying on my back with the skate boys laughing and not knowing what was happening. too many drugs. the shooting stars, shooting smack. shooting something. and now i can’t stay put. from here to there and soon again to move and see where the road takes me. another state, another day.
The roof needed alot of work. The shingles were in a state of disrepair. The house had not been kept up for a while. The showed the lack of care for the house that had yet to become a home.
I have a glorp over my frumk, and that is all I ask. I have no need for sloove, or froop, just a glorp to keep me dry at night.
The rain on the roof acted as a soothing agent on the the day on the stressful day she had had. She lay onto of the sheets in the hotel suite, watching the news with the lights switched of and the tin of quality street on her lap.
We use to lay ontop of the roof and gaze at the constellations, had I known he’d join those same stars so soon I would have held on a little tighter and kissed him just a little longer!
They lay there, staring up at the stars. That was what they were supposed to do in this world, right? Stargaze? Coming from a world without them, the idea was strange… but he couldn’t argue with the peaceful feeling that came over him as she nestled into his side, and her warmth and closeness insulated his own body. He pulled her closer and smiled. He could get used to this.