A termite grows up in dry wood, and yet comes to maturity.
South African proverbs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
The Fur Mites - 1917 - Parody Ogden Nash - The Termite, Harry Graham - Ruthless Rhymes
Some fur mites hop from hair to hair,
we seek them here, there, everywhere,
that's why we might flee from this day
flea-ridden wraps men trap as prey.
The Termite
Some primal termite knocked on wood
And tasted it, and found it good!
And that is why your Cousin May
Fell through the parlor floor today.
Ogden Nash
The Hittite
Some primal Hittite mined some ore,
he found it strong and mined some more.
and that is why we have today
no Coca-Cola cans of clay.
Shy Lady Laurie 2001
(9 September 2009)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Termite
Some primal termite knocked on wood
And tasted it, and found it good!
And that is why your Cousin May
Fell through the parlor floor today.
poem by Ogden Nash
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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African Rhythm
The foes beat the
drum of prejudice,
the Deity will not let
it sound; if the Deity
lets it sound, they
will be the one to
dance to the rhythm.
The termite only aspires:
no termite can have
the stone pulverized.
Their malicious
thoughts have only become
our luck.
poem by Bosun Abdul
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Detrimental
From the environment,
Does one get those first impressions.
And some of them like a gluing stick.
As a termite chews hidden,
On wood and not brick.
To occupy minds with thoughts hard to rid.
From the enviroment does one get,
An indoctrination of preferred habits.
And some of which never become those to address.
As having the most...
Detrimental and permanent,
Emotional affects.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Donkey In Milwaukee
I've spent too many nights,
Wondering who I am.
And why am I not a termite,
A rabbit or a bear.
Could I be a tree delusioned?
Or a hippopotamus,
Hypnotized.
I'm told I walk as if,
I waddle like a duck...
With pride.
Oh my!
Oh!
I've spent too many nights,
Wondering who I am.
And why am I not a termite,
A rabbit or a bear.
And 'if' my parents weren't who they were...
Would I be,
Here?
Or...
Would I be a monkey,
In despair!
Or...
A donkey in Milwaukee,
Without...
A care!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Through The Wood
THROUGH the wood, the green wood, the wet wood, the light wood,
Love and I went maying a thousand lives ago;
Shafts of golden sunlight had made a golden bright wood
In my heart reflected, because I loved you so.
Through the wood, the chill wood, the brown wood, the bare wood,
I alone went lonely no later than last year,
What had thinned the branches, and wrecked my dear and fair wood,
Killed the pale wild roses and left the rose-thorns sere?
Through the wood, the dead wood, the sad wood, the lone wood,
Winds of winter shiver through lichens old and grey,
You ride past forgetting the wood that was our own wood
All our own--and withered as ever a flower of May.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Character... is a habit, the daily choice of right over wrong; it is a moral quality which grows to maturity in peace and is not suddenly developed on the outbreak of war.
quote by Charles Wilson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Maturity is the ability to think, speak and act your feelings within the bounds of dignity. The measure of your maturity is how spiritual you become during the midst of your frustrations.
quote by Samuel Ullman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The principles now planted in thy bosom will grow, and one day reach maturity; and in that maturity thou wilt find thy heaven or thy hell.
quote by David Thomas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sea-Saw (more writing fun)
If I saw a wood boat afloat
Upon the sea,
Would what I see possibly be
The wood I cut from a tree?
For when I saw a tree
I would like to think I see,
What the wood I saw
Could be.
If all I saw in wood from a tree
Was all I saw that there was to see,
Would what I did saw
Be the wood that I now see?
And if the wood I once did saw
Was indeed made into that ship on the sea,
Would it even be possible to know that here what I see
Is the wood once sawed by me?
All I here would dare to share is:
I see what I saw, and I saw what I see,
And therefore the wood I do saw could one day be
The boat I may see, afloat upon the sea.
See?
poem by Smoky Hoss
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A termite can do nothing to a stone but lick it.
A termite can do nothing to a stone save lick it.
The earth is a termite mound, we all enter by the same opening.
Who guards two termite hills, returns empty handed.
It is easier to transport a termite hill than have authority in a village.
beach motel
a termite mound
near pathway
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Branches In Time
A young tender
branch
is easily bent
into submission.
As time goes
by
maturity begins
to set in
the branch
grows stronger.
With each passing
day
she becomes able to
carry the leaves
attached
Until one day
raising her arms
high into the sky
a mature branch
emerges
refusing to bend
anymore.
poem by Heather Burns
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Gibbous over Wood
The moon is not yet grown -
It is at the doorstep of maturity.
But still its light comes down
Through the broadleaf wood.
Here and there, a leaf is silver,
Chosen favorite of the moon,
While the other trees shiver
In the dark with envy.
The moon is not yet grown –
It is brilliant in its youth.
It is to the sun a mirror
And to the sky a mouth.
There is a light about a tree
A white wedding-gown,
Shall the moon wed the tree
Before it is yet grown?
The moon is not yet grown –
It is confident, though,
And shines with great spirit,
Piercing the wood through.
There is a path across the river,
Wrought in silver stone.
The moon mocks the walker
Who takes the path and drowns.
poem by Sophia White
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Plastic
Oh a little bitty termite you know he come knockin' knockin' on my front door
Well he walked right in sat right down started chewin' on the kitchen floor
You know he chewed out the walls and the ceilings and the halls Lord knows he tried
But he kept gettin' thinner and he never got no dinner and finally he sat up and cried
He said it's plastic yeah he said it's plastic
Well you know it ain't no wood and it can't do me no good
Because it's plastic he said it's plastic
You know that everything's gonna be plastic by and by
Yeah an early one day in the month of May I went down to the beach
You know there were beauties and cuties in little bathin' suities
And all of them within my reach
Then a 38-24-36 miss just happened to be passin' my way
I said please don't think I'm nervy but you look so very curvy
Please tell me how you got that way
She said it's plastic she said it's just plastic
She said it's pretty as can be but you know that it ain't me
Because it's plastic she said it's plastic everything's gonna be plastic by and by
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Lessons Yet To Learn
That one who comes,
Appearing to block our way.
May just be the one...
Who affords us more time,
To clarify our own journey.
With a wider vision,
Of that path to view all obstacles.
Not to stop us.
But to strengthen what it is,
We rush with a desire.
Dripping with ambition...
But leaving a completion of thought,
Loosened by an outcome,
That skips over lessons yet to learn.
Maturity is not a given.
A maturity received is earned.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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