Alex Pro
Alex Pro
ALEX ESCABARTE
Assess before you jump into something new. Make sure it’s
not something that will harm you, if not now then in
future.
There lived a poor farmer with his wife, once upon a time, in a village. He grew and
sold the vegetables for a living. One day, the farmer earned some more money by
selling vegetables and he bought a goose with it. The goose laid one golden egg a day.
The farmer and his wife were very happy to know this. Soon, they became very rich.
However, the farmer one day thought to himself, what if he gets all the golden eggs at
once. During one night, when everyone was fast asleep, he killed the goose. To his
dismay, he found only one egg when the cut opened her stomach. The greedy farmer
regretted killing the goose and they became poor once again.
Moral of the story: “Greed leads to destruction.
POEMS
Bed In Summer And does it not seem hard to you,
By Robert Louis Stevenson When all the sky is clear and blue,
In winter I get up at night And I should like so much to play,
And dress by yellow candle-light. To have to go to bed by day?
In summer, quite the other way, THE COW
I have to go to bed by day. By Robert Louis Stevenson
I have to go to bed and see The friendly cow, all red and white,
The birds still hopping on the tree, I love with all my heart:
She gives me cream with all her might,
Or hear the grown-up people’s feet To eat with apple tart.
Still going past, me in the street. She wanders lowing here and there,
And yet she cannot stray, And blown by all the winds that pass
And wet with all the showers,
All in the pleasant open air, She walks among the meadow grass
The pleasant light of day; And eats the meadow flowers
My Best Friend The Rainbow
Abby Jenkins By Christina Rossetti
Black and white, Thick and furry Boats sail on the rivers,
Fast as the wind, always in a hurry And ships sail on the seas;
Couple of spots, rub my ears But clouds that sail across the sky
Always comes when his name he hears Are prettier far than these.
Loves his ball; it's his favorite thing
There are bridges on the rivers,
As pretty as you please;
What's most fun for him? Everything!
But the bow that bridges heaven,
Great big tongue that licks my face
And overtops the trees,
Has a crate, his very own space
And builds a road from earth to sky,
Big brown eyes like moon pies
Is prettier far than these.
He's my friend till the very end
The Swing
By Robert Louis Stevenson
How do you like to go up in a swing,
Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing
Ever a child can do!