The first book I read of Shel Silversteins was The Giving Tree. Although I do not care for some of his associations, the poem Where the Sidewalk Ends perfectly sums up the simplicity and power of his words: There is a place where the sidewalk ends And before the street begins, And there the grass grows soft and white, And there the sun burns crimson bright, And there the moon-bird rests from his flight To cool in the peppermint wind. Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black And the dark street winds and bends. Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And watch where the chalk-white arrows go To the place where the sidewalk ends. Yes well walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And well go where the chalk-white arrows go, For the children, they mark, and the children, they know The place where the sidewalk ends.
Posted on: Mon, 16 Jun 2014 05:27:17 +0000