We read to know we are not alone. I was not really introduced to poetry until early middle school. I had a wonderful AIG english teacher named Mr. Keel who did a whole unit of poetry with us and I loved it! One of the poems he introduced us to was the. Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There. 8216;Twas brillig, and the slithy toves. 8220;Beware the Jabberwock, my son! By Ne.

Brown is the color of a country road. And the good smell of. Brown is the color of work. And the sound of a river,. Brown is bronze and a bow. On the edge of town. When you dig a hole. Brown is a leather shoe.

Published in the book,. Shout my name to the angels. Sing my song to the skies. Anoint my ears with wisdom. Let beauty fill my eyes. By my side By my side. Unique, Talented, Curious, Introvert. Friend of poet Gabriela Minstral.

Please share the entire poem, the author, and the title of the book in which it was published, if this is available. Also, please tell us why you like this particular poem.

This is a picture of me and my fiance during our hike. This is another great shot near the lake. This is my phone with an anxious face, not knowing when it would be used next. This is my fiance and his little brother walking down a dirt road to the lake. During my day without technology I missed the convenience in having a communicating device, a .

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, just as fair,. A poem with two voices.

The flame-red moon, the harvest moon,. Rolls along the hills, gently bouncing,. Till it takes off, and sinks upward. To lie in the bottom of the sky, like a gold doubloon. The harvest moon has come,. Booming softly through heaven, like a bassoon. And earth replies all night, like a deep drum.

Said little Peggy Ann McKay. 8216;I have the measles and the mumps,. A gash, a rash and purple bumps. My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,. My tonsils are as big as rocks,. It might be instamatic flu. I have a sliver in my thumb.

One must believe in the beauty of their dreams 3. Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy,.

The trees ask me,. And the sea asks me. The grass asks me,. And the rock asks me. And the ram tells me. I really like this poem because I feel like the reader can interpret it in many different ways. I found this poem in a poetry book called. My best memories are here.