Found
this poem today and decided to share with you! Even though winter is over)))
Those Winter Sundays
Sundays too my father got up early
and put his clothes on in the blue-black cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.
I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he’d call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,
Speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love’s austere and lonely offices?
Good morning! Here is a new express vocab quiz for you! Just 5 min!
CircumspectionFugitiveThreadbare
1.This picture brought such an agony of
pleasurable suffering that he worked it over and over again in his mind and set
it up in new and varied lights, till he wore it _______. (Tom Sawyer by Twain, Mark )
1.At last I tore my eyes from it for a
moment and saw that the hail curtain had worn ______, and that the sky was
lightening with the promise of the Sun. (The Time Machine by Wells, H.G.)
3.Consider also the devilish brilliance
and beauty of many of its most remorseless tribes, as the dainty ___________
shape of many species of sharks. (Moby
Dick by Melville, Herman)