Where the Sidewalk Ends

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

The Slithergadee

The Slithergadee
by Shel Silverstein

The Slithergadee has crawled out of the sea.
He may catch all the others, but he won't catch me.
No you won't catch me, old Slithergadee,
You may catch all the others, but you wo-

Yes, this poem is part of my childhood. I had forgotten about it, but my mother had made this puppet Slithergadee that went down her arm, and we all loved that thing. And she would recite the poem and use the puppet, pretending to dodge us at certain parts of it, and then at the end, at wo-, she would put the mouth on our face. It was awesome, that puppet.

Somebody has to go Polish the stars

I really like poetry, and of course that means I like Shel Silverstein. I love all of his poems, but I actually think that the one I like the best is this one:

Somebody Has to

Somebody has to go polish the stars,
They're looking a little bit dull.
Somebody has to go polish the stars,
For the eagles and starlings and gulls
Have all been complaining they're tarnished and worn,
They say they want new ones we cannot afford.
So please get your rags
And your polishing jars,
Somebody has to go polish the stars.

-Shel Silverstein

Maybe I like this one so much because of my obsession with star things.