To: Lady Jag; FRiends

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.
by Shel Silverstein
2,580 posted on
11/25/2008 12:11:35 PM PST by
yorkie
(The early bird gets the worm; the second mouse gets the cheese)
To: yorkie
Cool graphic to go with another of my fave Silverstein poems!!!!!
2,581 posted on
11/25/2008 12:18:15 PM PST by
Lady Jag
(DONATE NOW at https://secure.freerepublic.com/donate)
To: yorkie
That is such a sweet poem, yorkie.
2,590 posted on
11/25/2008 2:29:49 PM PST by
jaycee
("God's love still stands when all else has fallen.")
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