Saturday, April 09, 2005

The Moon's the North Wind's Cooky

The Moon's the North Wind's cooky,
He bites it day by day,
Until there's but a rim of scraps
That crumble all away.

The South Wind is a baker.
He kneads clouds in his den,
And bakes a crisp new moon that...greedy

Vachel Lindsay

Well how about that. The moon as a cooky.
I think someone could write a thesis on all of the foods that moon has been compared to.

Cheese. Milk. Cookies.

The Frog Moon

Frogs sit in the marshes,
throats bellowed tight,
feeling quite romantic,
calling through the night.
Come my love, my love, my love.
Come be mine to night.
-Penny Pollack

That sounds like muskrat love to me.

We can hear the frogs already. They are loud. I don't think I have ever lived anywhere where there are such loud frogs! And I don't even know what they look like.
Guess I should walk over to the pond with Katie and explore.
Science. That's the ticket :o)

Have you ever heard a bull frog?
I haven't since I was very small.
But I remember the deep, burpy sound,
And their big, heavy, slimy bodies.
They make quite a racket!

The world comes alive in Spring.
Good bye snow!

Encourage one another,

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