Make Fun Of Life!

The Fog

1/7/2019

The Fog

I like the fog
     It’s soft and cool,
It hides everything
     On the way to school.
I can’t see a house
     I can’t see a tree,
Because the fog
     Is playing with me.
The Sun comes out
     The fog goes away,
But it shall be back
     Another day.

by Author Unknown

0 Comments

The Tempest

1/6/2019

0 Comments

The Tempest

We were crowded in the cabin;
     Not a soul would dare to sleep:
It was midnight on the waters,
     And a storm was on the deep.

’T is a fearful thing in winter
     To be shattered by the blast,
And to hear the rattling trumpet
     Thunder, “Cut away the mast!”

So we shuddered there in silence,
     For the stoutest held his breath,
While the hungry sea was roaring,
     And the breakers threatened death.

And as thus we sat in darkness,
     Each one busy in his prayers,
“We are lost!” the captain shouted,
     As he staggered down the stairs.

But his little daughter whispered,
     As she took his icy hand,
“Isn’t God upon the ocean,
     Just the same as on the land?”

Then we kissed the little maiden,
     And we spoke in better cheer;
And we anchored safe in harbor
     When the morn was shining clear.

By James T. Fields

James Thomas Fields was born on 31 December 1817 in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, United States of America. He became a publisher, an editor, a poet, and a writer. His books include, “Yesterdays with Authors” (1871). James Thomas Fields passed on at 63 years of age on 24 April 1881 in Boston, Massachusetts, United States of America. His biography, written by his wife Annie Adams Fields, is titled “Memoir of James T. Fields, by His Wife” (1881).

0 Comments

Snow Falling

1/4/2019

0 Comments

Snow Falling

The wonderful snow is falling
     Over river and woodland and world;
The trees bear spectral blossom
     In the moonshine blurr’d and cold.

There’s a beautiful garden in Heaven;
     And these are the banished flowers,
Falling and driven and drifted
     Into this dark world of ours.

by John James Piatt

0 Comments

To a Snow-Flake

1/3/2019

0 Comments

To a Snow-Flake

What heart could have thought you? -
     Past our devisal
(O filigree petal!)
     Fashioned so purely,
Fragilely, surely,
     From what Paradisal
Imagineless metal,
     Too costly for cost?
Who hammered you, wrought you,
     From argentine vapor? -
“God was my shaper.
     Passing surmisal,
He hammered, He wrought me,
     From curled silver vapor,
To just of His mind -
     Thou could’st not have thought me!
So purely, so palely,
     Tinily, surely,
Mightily, frailly,
     Insculped and embossed,
With His hammer of wind,
     And His graver of frost.”

by Francis Thompson

0 Comments

Rain

1/1/2019

0 Comments

Rain

The rain is raining all around,
It falls on field and tree,
It rains on the umbrellas here,
And on the ships at sea.

by Robert Louis Stevenson: “A Child’s Garden of Verses” (1885)

Robert Louis Balfour Stevenson was born on 13 November 1850 in Edinburgh, Scotland. He became an essayist, a novelist, a travel writer, a poet, and a lyricist. He is known as the author of the adventure novels “Treasure Island” (1883) and “Kidnapped” (1886), the science fiction novel, “The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” (1886), and the poetry collection, “A Child’s Garden of Verses” (1885), all of which remain popular even now with readers of all ages. Robert Louis Balfour Stevenson passed on at 44 years of age on 3 December 1894 in Vailima, Samoan Islands.

0 Comments

Snow

12/31/2018

0 Comments

Snow

Lo, what wonders the day hath brought,
     Born of the soft and slumbrous snow!
Gradual, silent, slowly wrought;
Even as an artist, thought by thought,
     Writes expression on lip and brow.

Hanging garlands the eaves o’erbrim,
     Deep drifts smother the paths below;
The elms are shrouded, trunk and limb,
And all the air is dizzy and dim
     With a whirl of dancing, dazzling snow.

Dimly out of the baffled sight
     Houses and church-spires stretch away;
The trees, all spectral and still and white,
Stand up like ghosts in the failing light,
     And fade and faint with the blinded day.

Down from the roofs in gusts are hurled
     The eddying drifts to the waste below;
And still is the banner of storm unfurled,
Till all the drowned and desolate world
     Lies dumb and white in a trance of snow.

Slowly the shadows gather and fall,
     Still the whispering snow-flakes beat;
Night and darkness are over all:
Rest, pale city, beneath their pall!
     Sleep, white world, in thy winding-sheet!

Clouds may thicken, and storm-winds breathe:
     On my wall is a glimpse of Rome, -
Land of my longing! - and underneath
Swings and trembles my olive-wreath;
     Peace and I are at home, at home!

by Elizabeth Akers Allen

Elizabeth Akers Allen, who was born as Elizabeth Ann Chase and is also known as Elizabeth Akers and by the pseudonym Florence Percy, was born on 9 October 1832 in Strong, Maine, United States of America. She became a poet and a journalist. Elizabeth Akers Allen passed on at 78 years of age on 7 August 1911 in Tuckahoe, New York, United States of America.

0 Comments

Rain

12/30/2018

0 Comments

Rain

The clouds are shedding tears of joy,
     They fall with rhythmic beat
Upon the earth, and soon destroy
     Dust dunes and waves of heat.

Each falling drop enforcement bears
     To river, lake and rill,
And sweet refreshment gladly shares
     With wooded dell and hill.

Every flower, bud, and leaf,
     Each blossom, branch, and tree
Distills the rain, ’tis my belief,
     To feed the honey bee.

I pity every wretch I find
     Who, frowning in disdain,
Is deaf and dumb and also blind
     To beauty in the rain.

by Raymond Garfield Dandridge

Raymond Garfield Dandridge was born in about 1882 in Price Hill, Cincinnati, Ohio, United States of America. He became a poet and a writer. His published works include, “The Poet and Other Poems” (1920). Raymond Garfield Dandridge passed on at about 48 years of age on 24 February 1930 in Cincinnati, Ohio, United States of America.

0 Comments

It Snows

12/29/2018

0 Comments

It Snows

It snows! it snows! from out the sky
     The feathered flakes, how fast they fly,
     Like little birds, that don’t know why
They’re on the chase, from place to place,
     While neither can the other trace.
It snows! it snows! a merry play
     Is o’er us, on this heavy day!

As dancers in an airy hall,
     That hasn’t room to hold them all,
     While some keep up, and others fall,
The atoms shift, then, thick and swift,
     They drive along to form the drift,
That weaving up, so dazzling white,
     Is rising like a wall of light.

But, now the wind comes whistling loud,
     To snatch and waft it, as a cloud,
     Or giant phantom in a shroud;
It spreads! it curls! it mounts and whirls,
     At length, a mighty wing unfurls;
And then, away! but, where, none knows,
     Or ever will. - It snows! it snows!

To-morrow will the storm be done;
     Then, out will come the golden Sun:
     And we shall see, upon the run
Before his beams, in sparkling streams,
     What now a curtain o’er him seems.
And thus, with life, it ever goes;
     ’Tis shade and shine! - It snows! it snows!

by Hannah Flagg Gould

Hannah Flagg Gould was born on 3 September 1789 in Lancaster, Massachusetts, United States of America. She became a poet. Hannah Flagg Gould passed on at 76 years of age on 5 September 1865 in Newburyport, Massachusetts, United States of America.

0 Comments

The Rain-Drop

12/28/2018

0 Comments

The Rain-Drop

The rain-drop, the rain drop,
     Its soft and tiny feet
Keep up a pleasant pattering
     Along the dusty street.

The rain drop, the rain drop,
     It falls on the stream,
And floats in gladsomeness along
     Beneath the sunny beam.

The rain drop, the rain drop,
     It whispers to my ear -
“I am but lent to earth - not given -
     I must not stay here:

“Soon as the golden Sun shall shine
     In an unclouded sky,
Borne on the gentle breeze I’ll haste
     To my sweet home on high!

“And, when all nature seems athirst,
     On mountain, hill and plain,
The bright and sparkling rain-drop
     Will visit you again!”

by Richard Coe

0 Comments

Welcome to the Make Fun Of Life! Website. We are here to bring a little happiness to the world. Would you like to be among the first people to see new articles when they appear on the website? Click on the social media buttons on the left side of your screen and then follow us. We wish you the very best imaginable day, and thanks for visiting!

Further fantastically fascinating frivolity and factuality awaits you on the Make Fun Of Life! Website if you will courageously click on any of these colorful page links.
Activities
Alphabet
Animals
Arbor Day
Author Quotations
Child Abuse
Childhood
Christian Faith
Christmas
Colors
Correspondence
Easter
Essays
Fairy Tales
Fake News
Family
Foods
Friendship
Groundhog Day
Halloween
Holidays
Humorous Memes
In Memory
Inspiration
Learning
Library
Life
Marriage
Moral Conduct
Nathan’s Creations
Nature
New Year’s Day
Nonsense
Numbers
Nursery Rhymes
Parenting
Picture Quotations
Plants
Quotations
Seasons
Serious
Serious Poems
Serious Topics
Silly
Stories with Morals
Thanksgiving Day
Valentine’s Day
Weather
Website Information
Work
World

Do you need a joke, quotation, paragraph, or poem about a particular subject or topic? Go to the search box found at the top right side of this page and type it in. We have a surprising variety of material and we add new stuff regularly, so you just might find what you want.

Make Fun Of Life! can be right there with you, at home or wherever you go, on a laptop, cell phone, tablet, or any other internet connected device. Bookmark us and visit whenever you can. We regularly add fascinating new material for you!