bug

 

Ten little grasshoppers.

 Ten little grasshoppers.

Ten little grasshoppers sitting on a vine,

One ate too much green corn and then there were nine;

Nine little grasshoppers swinging on a gate,

One fell off and then there were eight.

Eight little grasshoppers started off to heaven,

One lost his way and then there were seven.

Seven little grasshoppers lived between two bricks,

Along came a wind storm and then there were six.

Six little grasshoppers found a bee-hive,

One found a bumble-bee and then there were five.

Five little grasshoppers playing on the floor,

Pussycat passed by that way and then there were four.

Four little grasshoppers saw a green pea,

They tried to eat it and then there were three;

Three little grasshoppers longed for pastures new,

A turkey gobbler saw them and then there were two ;

Two little grasshoppers sitting in the sun,

A little boy went fishing and then there was one;

One little grasshopper left all alone,

He tried to find his brothers and then there was none.

This little pig went to market. — Tileston, Mary Wilder : Sugar and Spice.

A BOOK AND A CHILD By William L. Stidger

 A BOOK AND A CHILD

By William L. Stidger

He who gives a child a hook Gives that child a sweeping look Through its pages Down the ages;

Gives that child a ship to sail Where the far adventures hail Down the sea Of destiny;

Gives that child a vision, wide As the skies where stars abide;

Clear and bright Through the night;

Gives that child great dreams to dream, Sunlit ways that flash and gleam Where the sages Tramp the ages.

From I Saw God Wash the World, Copyright by the author.

Before you decide to do something

 Before you decide to do something, do you ever think about the fact that there are some who may disagree with you? Do you think about how it will affect those who disagree with you? Do you allow others to disagree with you, or do you try to stop them from doing so? Think long and hard about that! Do you ever think about the fact that children may find out about what you want? their finding out may take away innocence? Do you really want to be guilty of that? Innocence must be preserved above all things. Are you sure that what you want is worth it?

what are people living for?

what are people living for? what gives to my life its meaning? I want to believe that i matter for something? not really all that much. the powers that be want us to be content with our own little existences. why do we not have meaning in life? because we would rather be slaves to our own little bitty passions and desires, because we, by nature love that dopamine rush that comes from getting everything that we want. That is what matters, not morals, at least that is what matters to us. if we start questioning the narrative, if we should learn how to care, to truly have any real concern for people other than our own desires, then we would see how we are being manipulated and we would fight back against it, and the higher ups do not want that

WHEN MOTHER READS ALOUD

 WHEN MOTHER READS ALOUD

When mother reads aloud, the past

Seems real as every day; I hear the tramp of armies vast, I see the spears and lances cast,

I join the thrilling fray; Brave knights and ladies fair and proud I meet, when mother reads aloud.

When mother reads aloud, far lands

Seem very near and true; I cross the desert's gleaming sands, Or hunt the jungle's prowling bands,

Or sail the ocean blue; Far heights, whose peaks the cold mists shroud, I scale, when mother reads aloud.

When mother reads aloud, I long

For noble deeds to do — To help the right, redress the wrong; It seems so easy to be strong,

So simple to be true. Oh, thick and fast the visions crowd My eyes, when mother reads aloud!

Author Unknown

Night-Piece by Solomon ibn Gabirol

 

Night-Piece

Solomon ibn Gabirol

translated from the Hebrew by Emma Lazarus Night, and the heavens beam serene with peace,  Like a pure heart benignly smiles the moon. Oh, guard thy blessed beauty from mischance,  This I beseech thee in all tender love.  See where the Storm his cloudy mantle spreads,  An ashy curtain covereth the moon.  As if the tempest thirsted for the rain,  The clouds he presses, till they burst in streams.  Heaven wears a dusky raiment, and the moon Appeareth dead—her tomb is yonder cloud,  And weeping shades come after, like the people  Who mourn with tearful grief a noble queen.  But look! the thunder pierced night’s close-linked mail, His keen-tipped lance of lightning brandishing; He hovers like a seraph-conqueror.— Dazed by the flaming splendor of his wings,  In rapid flight as in a whirling dance,  The black cloud-ravens hurry scared away.  So, though the powers of darkness chain my soul,  My heart, a hero, chafes and breaks its bonds.