Merry Cherry it's month of may

Merry, Cherry, it's month of May,

It's here to bring joy and to play!

The awaited vacations starts today,

To make the most of the passing day!

To visit our granny and to say,

Please comb my hair and blow that hay!

Merry, Cherry, it's month of May,

To travel the ocean and to stay!

To hide the treasure in bundle of hay,

And to play till the evening when sun runs away!

The books to repeat and never give away,

Upon our shelves they'll always stay!

Merry, Cherry, it's month of May,

To learn new things in pretty sweet way!

It's time for the flip flops to be awake,

And the ice-pops, to  come our way!

But now it's time to go home and to say,

A sad goodbye to all our play!



Topics :

Comments

Post a Comment

Based on your preferences:

Live a little, Laugh a lot!

Image
"Laughter, my dear friend, is like a cosmic chuckle button – the ultimate mood elevator, the comedy conductor, and the happiness elixir. It's the secret weapon the universe bestowed upon us to spread joy, so don't let it rust away! Your giggles are the magic wand you can wave to turn frowns into smiles. No matter what's going on, remember: if life gives you lemons, squeeze them into a laughter cocktail. Sip it, savor it, and watch your worries dissolve into bursts of mirth. Why let life's little pinpricks pop your joy bubble? Those minor blips on your life's radar aren't worth the drama, my friend! Save your brain cells, they might come in handy when you're solving the mysteries of the universe. And please, never hesitate to laugh, especially at your own goof-ups. It's a power move! Let your chuckles remind those tiny mistakes that they're no match for your colossal spirit. So, here's to laughter – the cosmic confetti that decorates our days
Read further »

Born to weep, after a dream?

Image
Why Are they happy  when the son is born, born to oppress and leaving her forlorn? In a world  where freedom's song was sung, She wonders why  her voice feels so unsung. Years of independence,  yet still in chains, Her safety questioned,  her dignity stained. In uniform or clothes deemed too brief, She faces fear,  not finding relief. Age is no shield  from a cruel hand, Was freedom just for men,  she can't understand. Blamed for walking  in the dark of night, While sons roam free,  their wrongs in sight. Not even safe  in the place they’ve grown, She asks,  where can she safely roam? Taught to know a touch  that's pure or vile, Yet who teaches the son  to walk a better mile? Why must she learn  to survive and fear, While he escapes  without ever shedding a tear? Twelve years or more the story remained same, Justice was denied  under the government insane!
Read further »