The Vent - a duct to fresh air and ideas

I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow. And I watered it in fears, Night and morning with my tears; And I sunned it with smiles, And with soft deceitful wiles. And it grew both day and night, 'Till it bore an apple bright, And my foe beheld it shine, And he knew that it was mine, And into my garden stole, When the night had veiled the pole. In the morning, glad I see My foe outstretched beneath the tree. - A Poison Tree, William Blake

April 02, 2005

An unbecoming ant

Upon a sickle of grass sat an ant. He sat and enjoyed himself intently. Suddenly, the ant discovered that within his being, he was looking and longing for more. Within that same place inside, he knew that he had everything he needed at his tentacle tips, but the desire seemed notable. Knowing that this hunger was unbecoming of an noble ant, he stood up, climbed down the slender blade, and walked away.

2 Thoughts:

At 1:44 PM, April 04, 2005, Anonymous added...: and the moral is: don't want things that are un-noble and you'll be perfectly content, ok so that's not entirely true but it's a nice thought.
At 2:50 PM, April 04, 2005, E.Marie added...: I totally know how that poorant is feeling.

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The Vent - a duct to fresh air and ideas

April 02, 2005

An unbecoming ant

2 Thoughts:

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