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FC: My Portfolio By Shachal O.

1: Table of contents | page 1.................................................table of content page 2.....................................................poetry terms page 3-4...............................................poetry analasys

2: Assonance is the repitition of similar vowles in streased syllabls of succsessive words. vowle owl | anthropomorphism is when a person or object is given animal like traits. The boy crept like a cat through the ally way He crept like a cat through the ally way. | Allegory is a short story with a moral. The perl by Jon Stineback

3: WHEN I see birches bend to left and right Across the line of straighter darker trees, I like to think some boy's been swinging them. But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay. Ice-storms do that. Often you must have seen them 5 Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning After a rain. They click upon themselves As the breeze rises, and turn many-colored As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel. Soon the sun's warmth makes them shed crystal shells 10 Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust— Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away You'd think the inner dome of heaven had fallen. They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load, And they seem not to break; though once they are bowed 15 So low for long, they never right themselves: You may see their trunks arching in the woods Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair Before them over their heads to dry in the sun. 20 But I was going to say when Truth broke in With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm (Now am I free to be poetical?) I should prefer to have some boy bend them As he went out and in to fetch the cows— 25 Some boy too far from town to learn baseball, Whose only play was what he found himself, Summer or winter, and could play alone. One by one he subdued his father's trees By riding them down over and over again 30 Until he took the stiffness out of them, And not one but hung limp, not one was left For him to conquer. He learned all there was To learn about not launching out too soon And so not carrying the tree away 35 Clear to the ground. He always kept his poise To the top branches, climbing carefully With the same pains you use to fill a cup Up to the brim, and even above the brim. Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish, 40 Kicking his way down through the air to the ground.

4: So was I once myself a swinger of birches; And so I dream of going back to be. It's when I'm weary of considerations, And life is too much like a pathless wood 45 Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs Broken across it, and one eye is weeping From a twig's having lashed across it open. I'd like to get away from earth awhile And then come back to it and begin over. 50 May no fate wilfully misunderstand me And half grant what I wish and snatch me away Not to return. Earth's the right place for love: I don't know where it's likely to go better. I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree, 55 And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more, But dipped its top and set me down again. That would be good both going and coming back. One could do worse than be a swinger of birches. 60

5: T It is about birches P Robort Frost looks at the birches and wishes that a boy had been swinging on them instead of the ice bending them C He compares the birches with the bent branches to girles drying their hair. I think he also means that if you try to clime up to heaven, the Birch will A He seems sad and serious. S He changes the subject when he says but. T The main subject of the poem is still birches T I think that he is saying that he wants to be a child again and that no mater how high up you get you always have to come back down again.

6: Narative The bird once there was a bird who flew faster than all the other birds. he often showd of how much faster than everyone else. "look at me! look at me!" he said to all the other birds. "I'm the fastest bird alive!" all the other birds got sick of him so they desided to leave him while he was sleeping. So they left early in the morning. When he woke up every one was gon and he did not know where to go. He eventualy found his way to where they had gon and he never showed of again.

7: Ode Ode to sumer Ode to sumer how I love the heat how I love the visits from the mosquetos and the freandly wasps how I love to swet in my school with no air conditioning and to atempt to cool down by standing in front of the open refrigerator o how I love the sumer

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  • By: shachal o.
  • Joined: over 7 years ago
  • Published Mixbooks: 1
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  • Title: my porfolio
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  • Published: over 7 years ago

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