My Favorite Writing Place

Before you start reading this, I'm giving you a heads up. This wasnt meant to be a poem and trust me its not. I'm in a creative writing class at my high school. I didnt sign up for it.. but honestly... its my favorite class at the moment. Its a class where I can really express myself and I dont have to worry about sounding stupid or self absorbed. My teacher is a wonderful person and she always has something good to say (at least she has so far) but i'm getting carried away. Anyway. This and probably the rest of the poems and writing i submit for viewing here will be works I've done in the class and assignments she's given us. The first one, which you're about to read, (if you're still here that is) is about our favorite writing place (obviously lol) I would love to read anything you say about all of my poems. Dont be afraid to tell me what you really think about it. ENJOY!! lol

My Favorite place to write isnt necessarily a very good one. The sun burns my face or back. The breezes barely cool me when I'm lucky enough to be graced with one. Animals call loudly to each other and it seems all concentration would be lost, however, my falling down barn provides just the opposite for me.
The wood rots beneath me, the spiders weaving their intricate webs above, it all just adds to the relaxation i need to write. It adds comfort and allows me to tap into my imagination and write whatever i see in my mind, forcing the images to flow from my mind to my fingers and what ever writing utensil i'm currently possessing.
My barn gives me everything i need to write and creates any atmosphere i need. For instance, If i crave a mystery, the wind will creak through the rusty metallic roof creating the spooky-ness i need. If horror, some unknown creature will zoom over my head and scare the living crap outta me as it emits a shrill cry. And of course theres the romance. Suddenly, the wind will die down, the birds will sing beautifully, the sun'll shine but it wont be too hot, and you can just imagine all the different things that people would run away from just to go there for just one stolen minute to be in each others arms.
Its my own book i've yet to finish writing, full of mystery and history i cant even begin to imagine. In fact its more like a book i've yet to even begin to seriously read. No matter how it looks on the outside to someone else, to me, it will always be my perfect place to write.