Twas the Night Before Christmas

Twas the Night Before Christmas
AKA: A Visit from St. Nicholas
by: Clement Clarke Moore

'Twas the night before Christmas,
when all through the house
not a creature was stirring,
not even a mouse:
the stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of sugarplums danced in their heads;
and mamma in her kerchief, and I in my cap,
had just settled our brains for a long winter nap;
when out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon, on the breast of the new fallen snow,
gave luster of midday to objects below,
when, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer,
with a little old driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
and he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On Comet! On Cupid! on Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall,
now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
so up to the housetop the coursers they flew, with the sleigh full of toys,
and St. Nicholas, too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof the prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur from his head to his foot,
and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
a bundle of toys he had flung on his back, and he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes- how they twinkled! his dimples- how merry!
His cheeks were like rose, his nose like a cherry.
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
and the beard on his chin was as white as the snow.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
and the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly
that shook when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
and I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
and filled all the stockings; then turned with a jer,
and laying his finger aside of his nose, and giving a nod,
up the chimney he rose.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
and away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all and to all a good night!"

The Road Not Taken

The Road Not Taken
by Rober Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
and sorry I could not travel both
and be one traveler, long I stood
and looked down one as far as I could
to where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
and having perhaps the better claim,
because it was grassy and wanted wear;
though as for that the passing there
had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
in leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Sojmewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
and that has made all the difference.

When You Thought I Wasn't Looking

When You Thought I Wasn't Looking
by Mary Schilke Korzan

When you thought I wasn't looking, you displayed my first report, and I wanted to do another.

When you thought I wasn't looking, you fed a stray cat, and I thought it was good to be kind to animals.

When you thought I wasn't looking, you gave me a sticker, and I knew the little things were special things.

When you thought I wasn't looking, you put your arm around me and I felt loved.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw tears come from your eyes, and I learned that sometimes things hurt- but that it's alright to cry.

When you thought I wasn't looking, you smiled, and it made me want to look that pretty too.

When you thought I wasn't looking, you cared, and I wanted to be everything I could be.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I looked... and wanted to say thanks for all those things you did when you thought I wasn't looking.

Where the Sidewalk Ends

Where the Sidewalk 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,
and there the sun burns crimson bright,
and there the moon-bird rests from his flight
to cool in the peppermind 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 sidewakl ends.

Phenomenal Woman

by Maya Angelou

Pretty woman wonder where my secret lies,

I'm not cute or built to fit a fashion model's size

But when I start to tell them,

They think I'm telling lies,

I say,

It's in the reach of my arms

The span of my hips

The stride of my step,

The curl of my lips,

I'm a woman

Phenomenally

Phenomenal woman,

That's me.

I walk into a room

Just as cool as you please,

and to a man,

The fellows stand or

Fall down on their knees.

They swarm around me,

A hive of honey bees,

I say,

Its the fire in my eyes,

And the flash of my teeth,

The swing in my waist,

And the joy in my feet.

I'm a woman

Phenomenally,

Phenomenal woman,

That's me.

Men themselves have wondered

What they see in me.

They try to show them,

But they can't touch

My inner mystery,

When I try to show them,

They say they still can't see,

I say,

It's the arch of my back

The sun in my smile,

The ride of my breasts,

The grace of my style,

I'm a woman

Phenomenally,

Phenomenal woman,

That's me.

Now you understand

Just why my head's not bowed.

I don't shout or jump about

Or have to talk real loud.

When you see me passing,

I ought to make you proud

I say,

It's the click of my heals,

The bend of my hair,

The need for my care.

'Cause I'm a woman

Phenomenally,

Phenomenal woman,

That's me.

If by Rudyard Kipling

IF

If you can keep your head when all about you
are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you;
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting;
Or, being lied about, don't deal in the lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look to good, nor talk to wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think- and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools;
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build'em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings;
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virture,
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run-
Yours is the Earth and everything that is in it,
And- which is more- you'll be a Man my son!