Showing posts from March, 2016

Chicken Little gets fooled

Chicken Little likes to walk in the woods. She likes to look at the trees. She likes to smell the flowers. She likes to listen to the birds singing. One day while she is walking an acorn falls from a tree, and hits the top of her little head. - My, oh, my, the sky is falling. I must run and tell the lion about it, - says Chicken Little and begins to run. She runs and runs. By and by she meets the hen. - Where are you going? - asks the hen. - Oh, Henny Penny, the sky is falling and I am going to the lion to tell him about it. - How do you know it? - asks Henny Penny. - It hit me on the head, so I know it must be so, - says Chicken Little. - Let me go with you! - says Henny Penny. - Run, run. So the two run and run until they meet Ducky Lucky. - The sky is falling, - says Henny Penny. - We are going to the lion to tell him about it. - How do you know that? - asks Ducky Lucky. - It hit Chicken Little on the head, - says Henny Penny. - May I come with you? - asks Ducky Lucky. - Come, - s…

Mr. Flood's Party by Edwin Arlington Robinson

Old Eben Flood, climbing alone one night  Over the hill between the town below  And the forsaken upland hermitage  That held as much as he should ever know  On earth again of home, paused warily.  The road was his with not a native near;  And Eben, having leisure, said aloud,  For no man else in Tilbury Town to hear: 
"Well, Mr. Flood, we have the harvest moon  Again, and we may not have many more;  The bird is on the wing, the poet says,  And you and I have said it here before.  Drink to the bird." He raised up to the light  The jug that he had gone so far to fill,  And answered huskily: "Well, Mr. Flood,  Since you propose it, I believe I will." 
Alone, as if enduring to the end  A valiant armor of scarred hopes outworn,  He stood there in the middle of the road  Like Roland's ghost winding a silent horn.  Below him, in the town among the trees,  Where friends of other days had honored him,  A phantom salutation of the dead  Rang thinly till old Eben's e…

Writing prompt for today

Think of a place you know well.

Fix an image, or picture in your mind, of this place, in as much detail as possible.

Use colors, smells, textures (touch), sound and taste to fill in the details of the place.

Now write a description of this place, using all these details.

Write until you feel confident that you have used all your details and that the reader has the same mental image of the place as you do.

If you like, you can use an actual image, such as this one:

The first day of Class

There’s the beginning, which is always confusing. No one knows the rules except the old hands, and they struggle to explain what’s going on. The newbies strive, some of them, while others give up almost immediately.
Then the middle. a long slog. It’s become quite clear what is expected: work, work, and more work.
And the end—it’s always the same. The end comes suddenly crashing through the door, sweeping everyone up into a frenzy. No use trying to plan rationally-the end is always the same.
And then it’s over. Time for some newbies, Again.