WHO SAID IT WAS SIMPLE ~BY AUDRE LORDE
There are so many roots to the tree of anger
that sometimes the branches shatter
before they bear.
WHERE THE SIDE WALK ENDS ~BY SHEL SILVERSTEIN
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
THE SUN IN MY ARMS ~BY POETICIA
Your warm embrace
Like a cloak of freedom
Laid the sun in my arms
HOPE ~BY EMILY DICKINSON
Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
LUCY IN THE SKY WITH DIAMONDS ~BY KRISTINA LOUISA CARR
A tiny brown triangle on the finger tip
Promises to explore distant lands on a trip
MY FIRST LOVE KILLED HERSELF ~BY PRESLEY PARKER
My first love killed herself,
Not in the way you think,
Not with a gun to her head,
HOW DO I LOVE THEE? ~BY ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
PAUL REVERE’S RIDE ~BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
Listen, my children, and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
A BIRD, CAME DOWN THE WALK ~BY EMILY DICKINSON
A Bird, came down the Walk –
He did not know I saw –
ODE TO NIGHTINGALE ~BY JOHN KEATS
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,