Essay Sample on Playground: My Point of View

Posted on September 30, 2011

“The playground”

The smiling grass gives the impression of a healthy feeding by animals. The shining star from the East gives a sparkling outlook on the court giving the best of all Mother Nature can offer. The greenly parchments on the playground are a mouth-watering sight with kids displaying their skills in football and basketball. The movement of their feet resembling hockey sticks entails the search for happiness, compassion and togetherness by the kids. The running ball is all they want; the skinny ones are the fastest while the elephants bulldoze their tusks, as they chase the football. The shouting increases as the ball rolls to the east side chased by the impala fast handsome kid towards the trembling lily between the thin, tall gaping goal posts. A thunderous shot leaves a shaking net in its wake. Shouts of joy and jubilation fill the air. “Tap, tap, tap” as they move outdoing each other and “yeeeeees” the dunk is in. Clapping and shouting fills, the air with ecstasy and joy. The appealing smell of dust hits the nose as celebrations continue. Thumping of feet marks the end of celebrations. An amazing adventure it has turned out to be.

“The other part of playing”

The glaring sun seemed to request sweat from anyone including grass, which was determined not to give in. Everyone in the field is profusely sweating and the odor produced gives the housefly healthy competition. The moment the wonder strike was executed the faces of the kids in team A turned red. The embarrassment imprinted on their faces will take a decade to erase. Scampering to safety is Kaci the brown round faced little puppy without a care in this world but ensuring its tail is invisible between its thin legs. I am left wondering if it also knows the pain of losing. Coughing dust allergic kids deteriorates an already worse situation as they seem to want to outdo each other. Ooh, my God, the goalkeeper laments, the worst happens and is thinking of the career ahead of him. Clutching dipped heads in a line the movements certainly homebound. For today, that is, all they got and the pain of losing engraved in their minds as they depart. The grass in an illusion of their former self are tired and sleepy; how good would the healing waters flow to drawn the sorrows of the day. Clicking cameras, their invention a big blunder, claim their stake in this piece of history. What an uncontrollable environment that has turned a field to a pool of emotional kids.

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