The Predicament of the Materialist


The television's broken, I don't know what to do.
The computer has exploded; the VCR has, too!

I tried hard to fix them, but my technician-skills are low.
I called a guy to help me. He should come in a week or so.

When the technician gets here, I hope the job gets done,
Because without essential stuff, life just is not much fun.

I think that in this story, there's a lesson not to forget:
Never mistreat your belongings, or do something you might regret.

Materialists, Materialists, bagillions world-wide.
But that is in our nature; it's how we were designed.

 This is the mystery of life!

(Find out who you are and do it on purpose - Dolly Parton)


Once I went on a journey
A journey far away
My task was to discover my true self
Who am I?

I went through the world
Through the sky, sean and land
Through any space that I could find
What is the purpose of my life?

I could not find the answers
Although I keep asking these questions
If I am what I am, and I still do not know what that is,
Am I really am?

That is the mystery of life



When I go
snow (boarding)
on the river flow
I go too slow
When I go
snow (boarding)
on the majestic snow
I am a pro



She was slender and tall
And light in her step
The prince invited her to the ball
But her four sisters wept 

He dance shoes are new
And soft is the leather
Her frock is sky blue
And as light as a feather 

Her hat has a pink bow
And her hair is so neat
Her cheeks are aglow
As she skips to the beat

And make no mistake
His bride she will make

My Poem


This is my poem.
Say what you think.
Do you think I'm a bungler
With pen and ink?

Do you find this poem special,
Or is it just a handful of sand
That has been added to the desert
By a silly girl's hand?

The song of the leaves


As the heat of the earth rises
The cold of the heaven falls
The wave blows across the seas
And flows towards the trees

The wind plays on the voices of the leaves 

You spring leaves squeak like little pigs
Summer leaves whistle like teenagers
Autumn leaves sound the high tones
Winter leaves hang on to the last chords 

As the last leaves fall the orchestra winds down
To await the birth of the little squeaky pigs




As I wrote down these few lines
A pale white ray of clear light
Flowed slightly through the closed curtains
Of the open window in my room.

I left my pencils and walked to the light
Looking up to the shadowy sky
And I saw the waxing moon.
This I realized then:

The moon sees all the ages of time
Gazing at the earth, listening to its voices.
And a thousand secrets she knows thus,
Of ancient realms and kings and queens.

And yet, she will not tell us
The meaning of those mysterious runes
That men once carved on mountains' sides
Or the distant sound of horses' hooves
Drawing westward, men in caravans
Seeking the gold that the Earth hides. 

She will not tell on which lost island
Or in the depths of which forest
The old pirate buried his treasures.
She will not tell the secret languages
Of Indians who talked to trees and winds,
Or the real location of lost Atlantid...

But she knows, for she was there.
She knows more than the wisest man
Ever knew; and she is fair.

She stood before, and will stay after men.
She saw and will see a thousand more ages.
She heard and will hear a thousand more voices.
Now, man thinks he is the wisest,
The fairest of all beings
The most intelligent because able to think.
He thinks he knows everything.

But that night, I thought
That the wisest and fairest of all
Is the innocent child who looks at the moon
Imagines fairy tales of princes and princesses
Living on lost islands and finding buried treasures
Discovering ancient languages
Of trees and flowers and wind. 

To this child, I think,
The moon will tell the forgotten tales
Of ancient realms and kings and queens
And of a lost island, once called Atlantid.

Me, Myself, and I


I am a girl who loves sports.
I am a girl unlike the others.
I am a girl who doesn't need fashion;
I am a girl who doesn't wear make-up.
I am a girl who doesn't care about popularity,
I am a girl who likes to be outside.
I am a girl who can't live without winter sports;
I am a girl who loves to play ice-hockey.
I am a girl.
An individual. 




Kids' Work