Through the Living Hope
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Shel Silverstein poems because I have a snow day tomorrow and you can’t stop me
SpoilerI will not play at tug o war
Id rather play at hug o war
Where everyone hugs
Instead of tugs,
Where everyone giggles
And rolls on the rug,
Where everyone kisses,
And everyone grins,
And everyone cuddles,
And everyone winsSpoilerMy skin is sort of brownish
Pinkish yellowish white
My eyes are grayish blueish green,
But I’m told they look orange in the night
My hair is reddish blondish brown
But it’s silver when it’s wet
And all the colors I am inside
Have not been invented yetSpoilerHector the Collector
Collected bits of string
Collected dolls with broken heads
And rusty bells that would not ring
Pieces out of picture puzzles
Bent up nails and ice cream sticks
Twists of wires, worn out tires,
Paper bags and broken bricks
Old chipped vases, half shoelaces
Gatlin guns that wouldn’t shoot
Leaky boats that wouldn’t float
And stopped up horns that wouldn’t toot
Butter knifes that had no handles
Copper keys that fit no locks
Rings that were too small for fingers
Dried up leaves and patched up socks
Worn out belts that had no buckles,
Lectric trains that had no tracks
Airplane models, broken bottles,
Three legged chairs and cups with cracks
Hector the Collector
Loved these things with all his soul
Loved them more than shining diamonds
Loved them more than glistenin gold
Hector called to all the people
“Come and share my treasure trunk!”
And all the silly sightless people
Came and looked… and called it junk
SpoilerWould you like to hear
Of the terrible night
When I bravely fought the-
No? All right
SpoilerOnce I spoke the language of the flowers
Once I understood each word the caterpillar said
Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings
And shared a conversation with the housefly in my bed
Once I heard and answered all the questions of the crickets
And joined the crying of each falling dying flake of snow
Once I spoke the language of the flowers
How did it go?
How did it go?
SpoilerNo one’s hanging stockings up
No ones baking pie
No one’s lookin up to see
A new star in the sky
No one’s talking brotherhood
No ones giving gifts
And no one loves a Christmas tree
On March the twenty fifth
