Stress Free Poetry

Pope’s Ode to solitude  "How happy he, who free from care  The rage of courts, and noise of towns;  Contented breaths his native air,  In his own grounds.  "Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,  Whose flocks supply him with attire,  Whose trees in summer yield him shade,  In winter fire.  "Blest! who can unconcern'dly find  Hours, days, and years slide swift away,  In health of body, peace of mind,  Quiet by day "Sound sleep by night; study and ease  Together mix'd; sweet recreation,  And innocence, which most does please,  With meditation.  "Thus let me live, unheard, unknown;  Thus unlamented let me die;  Steal from the world, and not a stone  Tell where I lie." (Pope, it is said, wrote this gem of a poem at the age of 12. It is undoubtedly one of the 100 best poems of the English language during the last five hundred years). My ...

Your children now will never meet, a Carolina Parakeet.  The passenger pigeon is gone too, the last one died while at the zoo.  Their flocks at one time blocked the sky, who thought that soon they all would die.  We have to learn now to protect, and treat animals with more respect.  The southern swamps seem strangely still. We hear no more the Ivory-bill.  Is it gone? we can not say,.but hope he will be found some day.  The list goes on and is too long, it's time to correct what we did wrong.  To kill our wildlife is insane, who wants to shoot a whooping crane.  Yet someone will pick up a gun and shoot an animal just for fun.  and if the shot doesn't leave him dead, he'll no doubt die when he eats the lead  How many times is oil to spill, and foul our waters and slowly kill?  We contaminate our very lives, its a wonder anyone survives.  The time has come from now and hence, for us to use s...