• Poetry

    The Wonderful words – english poem, by Mary O’Neill, NCERT Course, Class-VI

    6 total views, 1 views today Poem The Wonderful Words           Imagine a world without language. All humans speak at least one language. The words we speak bring out our thoughts. Read the following poem on words.                       Never let a thought shrivel and die                      For want of a way to say it                      For English is a wonderful game                      And all of you can play it.                      All that you do is match the words                      To the brightest thoughts in your head                      So that they come out clear and true                      And handsomely groomed and fed–                      For many of the loveliest things                      Have never yet been said.                      Words are the food and dress of…

  • Poetry

    Where Do All the Teachers Go? – english poem, by Peter Dixcy, NCERT Corse, Class-VI

    5 total views, no views today Poem Where do all the teachers go?           For a little child a teacher is special. It is difficult for a small child to think of his/her teacher as an ordinary person.                     Where do all the teachers go                    When it’s four o’clock?                    Do they live in houses                    And do they wash their socks?                     Do they wear pujamas                    And do they watch TV?                    And do they pick their noses                    The same as you and me?                     Do they live with other people                    Have they mums and dads?                    And were they ever children                    And were they ever bad?                     Did they ever, never spell right                   …

  • Poetry

    Beauty – english poem, by E-Yeh- Shure, NCERT course, class-VI

    24 total views, 1 views today Poem Beauty What is beauty? Try describe what beauty is, or list some of the things or persons you think are beautiful.Now let us read a poem on beauty.                            Beauty is seen                    In the sunlight,                    The trees, the birds,                    Corn growing and people working                    Or dancing for their harvest.                    Beauty is heard                    In the night,                    Wind sighing, rain falling,                    Or a singer chanting                    Anything in earnest.                    Beauty is in yourself,                    Good deeds, happy thoughts                    That repeat themselves                    in your dreams,                    In your work,                    And even in your rest.                                                                                                   …

  • Poetry

    The Quarrel – english poem, by Eleanor Farjeon, NCERT scorse, Class- VI

    9 total views, no views today Poem The Quarrel             It is common for brothers and sisters to quarrel, although sometimes they may not even be able to say why they quarrel. But how long do such quarrels last? How do they end?                     I quarreled with my brother                    I don’t know what about.                    One thing led to another                    And somehow we fell out.                    The start of it was slight,                    The end of it was strong,                    He said he was right,                    I knew he was wrong!                     We hated one another,                    The afternoon turned black,                    Then suddenly my brother                    Thumped me on the back,                    And said, “Oh, come along!                    I was…

  • Poetry

    The Kite – english poem, NCERT course, by Harry Behn

    6 total views, no views today Poem The Kite All of us like to fly kites. Have you ever tried to fly one? Read this poem about a kite as it flies in the sky. How right on the blueIs a kite when it’s new!With a dive and a dipIt snaps its tailThen soars  like a shipWith only a sailAs over tides Of wind it rides, Climbs to the chestOf a gust and pulls,  Then seems to restAs wind falls.When string goes slackYou wind it backAnd run untilA new breeze blowsAnd its wings fillAnd up it goes!How bright on the blueIs a kite when it’s new!But a raggeder thingYou never will…

  • Poetry

    A house a home- english poem, class- VI, NCERT course, by Lorraine M Halli

    62 total views, 1 views today Poem A house a home What is the difference between a house and a home? Discuss it with your partner. Then read the poem.                      What is a house?                     It’s brick and stone                     and wood that’s hard.                     Some window glass                     and perhaps a yard.                     It’s eaves and chimneys                     and tile floors                     and stucco and roof                     and lots of doors.                      What is a home?                     It’s loving and family                     and doing for others.                     It’s brothers and sisters                     and fathers and mothers.                     It’s unselfish acts                     and kindly sharing                     and showing your loved ones                     you’re always caring.                                                                         LORRAINE M. HALLI

  • Prose

    STANDING UP FOR YOURSELF

    274 total views, no views today Prose Standing up for yourself by Yevgeny yevtushenko Unit- I In 41, I was living alone in an empty flat in a quiet Moscow street…      My parents were divorced and my father was somewhere in Kazakhstan with his new wife and their two children. I seldom received letters from him.      My mother was at the front. She had given up her work as a geologist to become a singer and was giving concerts for the troops.      My education was left to the street. The street taught me to swear, smoke, spit, elegantly though my teeth, and to keep my fists at the…

  • Poetry

    MONEY MADNESS

    29 total views, no views today Poetry Money Madness D.H. Lawrence Money is our madness, our vast collective madness.And of course, if the multitude is madthe individual carries his own grain of insanity around with him.I doubt if any man living hands out a pound note without a pang;and a real tremor, if he hands out a ten-pound note. We quail, money makes us quail.It has got us down; we grovel before it in strange tellor.And no wonder, for money has a fearful cruel power among men, But it is not money we are so terrified of,it is the collective money-mankind.For mankind says with one voice: How much is he worth?Has…

  • television poem
    Poetry

    TELEVISION

    42 total views, no views today Poetry Television Roald dahl The most important thing we’ve learned, So far as children are concerned, Is never, NEVER, NEVER let The near your television set — Or better still, just don’t install The idiotic thing at all. In almost every house we’ve been, We’ve watched them gaping at the screen, They loll and slop and lounge about, And stare until their eyes pop out. (Last week in someone’s place we saw  A dozen eyeballs on the floor.) They sit and stare and stare and sit Until they’re hypnotized by it, Until they’re absolutely drunk With all that shocking ghastly junk. Oh yes, we know…

  • Poetry

    A PSALM OF LIFE

    7 total views, no views today Poetry A psalm of life Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Tell me not in mournful numbers,Life is but an empty dream!For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest!And the grave is not its goal;‘Dust thou art, to dust thou return-est’,Was not spoken of the soul. Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,Is our destined end or way;But to act, that each tomorrowfinds us father than today. Art long, and Time is fleeting,And our hearts, though stout and brave,Still, like muffled drums, are beatingFuneral marches to the grave. In the world’s broad field of battle,In the bivouac of life,Be…

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