Everything Apart From Coloured Leg Warmers

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Kudos to me for getting over the barrier of posting as im pretty much part of the "blogs give away too much" school of thought! which may be considered as conventional or too non-conventional by anka (=D) but thats me. so like the rest of you i might as well conquer some blank space and post a poem. Here's one of my favorites from as far back as i can remember, a children's poem that practically every kid in America devours as Shel Silverstein is only too well known. Nothing too complicated that requires a lot of head-scratching, which i think is usually what we all enjoy, but you might still like it!

Where the Sidewalk Ends

There is a place where the sidewalk ends,
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.

-Shel Silverstein


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