Sara+C

Sara
 * How Do I Love Thee? (Sonnet 43) ||||  ||
 * by [|Elizabeth Barrett Browning] ||
 * How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of being and ideal grace. I love thee to the level of every day's Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
 * How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of being and ideal grace. I love thee to the level of every day's Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.

This poem is about how a person loves their partener they love them with all their soul. they love them all the time.they going to love them from life until death. theirs alot of repetition in the poem. the aurthor says i love the over and over. ||


 * || Making a Fist ||||  ||
 * by Naomi Shihab Nye ||
 * |||| [[image:http://missdenglish11.wikispaces.com/site/embedthumbnail/placeholder?w=NaN&h=NaN caption="Get Flash Player" link="@http://www.macromedia.com/shockwave/download/download.cgi?P1_Prod_Version=ShockwaveFlash"]] ||
 * For the first time, on the road north of Tampico, I felt the life sliding out of me, a drum in the desert, harder and harder to hear. I was seven, I lay in the car watching palm trees swirl a sickening pattern past the glass. My stomach was a melon split wide inside my skin. "How do you know if you are going to die?" I begged my mother. We had been traveling for days. With strange confidence she answered, "When you can no longer make a fist." Years later I smile to think of that journey, the borders we must cross separately, stamped with our unanswerable woes. I who did not die, who am still living, still lying in the backseat behind all my questions, clenching and opening one small hand.
 * || Making a Fist ||||  ||
 * by Naomi Shihab Nye ||
 * |||| [[image:http://missdenglish11.wikispaces.com/site/embedthumbnail/placeholder?w=NaN&h=NaN caption="Get Flash Player" link="@http://www.macromedia.com/shockwave/download/download.cgi?P1_Prod_Version=ShockwaveFlash"]] ||
 * For the first time, on the road north of Tampico, I felt the life sliding out of me, a drum in the desert, harder and harder to hear. I was seven, I lay in the car watching palm trees swirl a sickening pattern past the glass. My stomach was a melon split wide inside my skin. "How do you know if you are going to die?" I begged my mother. We had been traveling for days. With strange confidence she answered, "When you can no longer make a fist." Years later I smile to think of that journey, the borders we must cross separately, stamped with our unanswerable woes. I who did not die, who am still living, still lying in the backseat behind all my questions, clenching and opening one small hand.
 * For the first time, on the road north of Tampico, I felt the life sliding out of me, a drum in the desert, harder and harder to hear. I was seven, I lay in the car watching palm trees swirl a sickening pattern past the glass. My stomach was a melon split wide inside my skin. "How do you know if you are going to die?" I begged my mother. We had been traveling for days. With strange confidence she answered, "When you can no longer make a fist." Years later I smile to think of that journey, the borders we must cross separately, stamped with our unanswerable woes. I who did not die, who am still living, still lying in the backseat behind all my questions, clenching and opening one small hand.

Its a child thats in a backseat and wasn't feeling good. He thought he was going to die. He loks back on that time.He compares it to his life today.The author used a metaphor. She compared the childs stomach to a melon. ||

If you'll be the V And she'll represent O If he can be E
 * ==[|L-O-V-E]== ||
 * I'll be the L

author unknown [] This poem is about love. It explains how two people have to share things in a relationship.The author uses rhyming.The second and fourth line rhyme. ||