Books, Quotes, Poems

Why do political ads always say whom to vote for but never try to explain why? Dramatic music will not make me vote; reason will.

Why would you not use your vocabulary to its full extent?

One cold and dreary February
(Now, I’m not sure how or why),
I glanced up from my reading, wary
Of a Robin flying by.
He, too, was wary of my worried look
And sharply turned around.
He landed on my windowsill
And made a flutt’ring sound.
He cocked his head, as birds will do
When they are asking, “why?,”
And while a bird, I think,
He listened well to my reply:
“I’m sorry, Mr. Robin;
I just couldn’t help but see
That you’re arriving somewhat earlier
Than you’re supposed to be.
See, normally, you and your kin
Come here at winter’s end to sing,
And as I’m sure you see, good sir,
It’s not remotely spring.”
The little bird puffed up
The bright red feathers on his chest.
He jumped up on my open book
And flew off somewhere west.
It’s not till know I understand
just why he left that day;
Now I believe when you point out proud robins’ errs,
They are inclined to fly away
(And yet since then, the robins
Haven’t been nor late nor early,
So while the bird was likely hurt,
He could not have been that surely).

By myself

Be kind and tender to the Frog, 
And do not call him names, 
As ‘Slimy skin,’ or ‘Polly-wog,’ 
Or likewise ‘Ugly James,’ 
Or ‘Gap-a-grin,’ or ‘Toad-gone-wrong,’ 
Or ‘Bill Bandy-knees’: 
The Frog is justly sensitive 
To epithets like these. 

No animal will more repay 
A treatment kind and fair; 
At least so lonely people say 
Who keep a frog (and, by the way, 
They are extremely rare). 

Hilaire Belloc 

Good writers read. 

Prose. Lots and lots of prose.