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Be Glad Your Nose is on Your Face by Jack Prelutsky it soon would drive you to despair,
Be glad your nose is on your face, forever tickled by your hair.
not pasted on some other place,
for if it were where it is not, Within your ear, your nose would be
you might dislike your nose a lot. an absolute catastrophe,
for when you were obliged to sneeze,
Imagine if your precious nose your brain would rattle from the breeze.
were sandwiched in between your toes,
that clearly would not be a treat, Your nose, instead, through thick and thin,
for you'd be forced to smell your feet. remains between your eyes and chin,
not pasted on some other place--
Your nose would be a source of dread be glad your nose is on your face!
were it attached atop your head,
The verb means action, something done – The interjection cries out,
To read and write, to jump and run; Hark! I need an exclamation mark.
The Reading Mother by Strickland Gillilan’s Stories that stir with an upward touch,
Oh, that each Mother of boys were such!
I had a Mother who read me lays You may have tangible wealth untold;
Of ancient and gallant and golden days; Chests of jewels and coffers of gold.
Stories of Marmion and Ivanhoe, Richer than I, you can never be –
Which every boy has a right to know. For I had a Mother who read to me.
I had a Mother who read me tales
Of Gelert the hound of the hills of Wales,
True to his trust till his tragic death,
Faithfulness blent with his final breath.
I had a Mother who read me the things
That wholesome life to the boy heart brings –