Subject: The Sidewalk Has Ended ( 1 of 3 )
Posted by Bill
I don't know if it is appropriate to post this here, but I figure this is a well-read bunch and, perhaps, most would be interested. We lost one of the world's greatest authors today.
Children's author and
songwriter Shel Silverstein dies
May 10, 1999
Web posted at: 5:56 PM EDT (2156 GMT)
KEY WEST, Florida (AP) -- Shel
Silverstein, the author of such
acclaimed children's books as "A Light
in the Attic" and "Where the Sidewalk
Ends," was found dead at his home
early Monday. He was 66.
Two cleaning women discovered
Silverstein in his bedroom. The cause
of death was not immediately known.
"There's no evidence of weapons or drugs," police spokeswoman Cynthia
Silverstein was born in Chicago and began his career as a writer and
cartoonist for Playboy in 1952. He later served in the U.S. military in
Japan and Korea, where he was a cartoonist for the Pacific Stars and Stripes.
Silverstein was known for his folk songs and his children's verse.
His books include "The Giving Tree" (1964), "Falling Up" (1981) "Where
the Sidewalk Ends" (1981) "A Light in the Attic" (1981) "The Missing Piece"
(1982), and "The Missing Piece Meets the Big O" (1982).
"I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
"I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
'I've counted sixteen chicken pox
And there's one more-- that's seventeen,
And don't you think that my face looksgreen?
My leg is cut, my eyes are blue--
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke--
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button's caving in,
My back is wreched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb,
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my spine is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is--what?
What's that? What's that you say?
You say that today is... Saturday?
G'bye, I'm going out to play!"