四六级考试网

In a toystoreon a Sundaywith a dollar forty nineI need somethingjust a dumb thingfor my brand newValentine.Oh my darling.Oh my darling.Oh my darlingValentine.I’m uneasy,kind of queasy,but you’re still myValentine.Yes, it happenedin the classroomwhen you said”Will you be mine?”I was muddledand befuddled,so I said,”Uh huh, that’s fine.”Then you called mein the lunchroom.You had saved aplace in line.And I knew thatit was true thatI was now yourValentine.I went shoppingfor a presentand I saw thisblinking sign:”Here’s a pleasantlittle presentfor a brand newValentine.”So I bought itand I brought itin my backpackright at nine.Do you like it?It’s a spy kitwith a flashlightyou can shine.I could tell youdidn’t like itwhen you said Iwas a swine.How exciting!I’m delighting.I have no moreValentine.Till anotherperson asked meand they said”Will you be mine?”Oh, my head.I’m turning red.I’ve got anotherValentine.

Hooray! Hooray! It’s New Year’s Day!The day we start anew.So this year I’ve decidedto become a kangaroo.Or maybe I will learn to fly,or how to walk through walls,or how to turn invisible,or surf on waterfalls.I’ll make myself elasticand I’ll teach myself to shrink.I’ll turn into a liquidand I’ll pour me down the sink.I’ll visit other planetsand meet aliens galore.I’ll travel to the distant pastand ride a dinosaur.I’ve got so many wondrous plans.I’m starting right away.Yes, this will be the best year yet.Hooray! It’s New Year’s Day!

Sleeping Beauty pricked her thumb,started feeling overcome.Probably she would have diedas the witch had prophesied,but the fairies had her blessedso she just got beauty rest.For a hundred fifty yearsshe missed balls and film premieres,till Prince Charming came alongsinging out a cheerful song.Kneeling down he kissed her cheekhoping that she’d wake and speak.Sleeping Beauty raised an armreaching for the snooze alarmand her waking words were these:”Just need five more minutes please.”

Our teacher’s like no other teacher we’ve seen.She likes to wear costumes from last Halloween.While shouting a sonnet she’ll dance with a broom,then sprinkle confetti all over the room.She asks the opinions of Mr. Levesque,the mannequin head that she keeps on her desk.She jokes with the hamster and sings to the clock.She wrestles erasers and argues with chalk.She likes to make sculptures from typewriter partsand brings us her heavenly blackberry tarts.For homework, she says that we have to go play,and watch no T.V. for the rest of the day.Our teacher is either completely insaneor some kind of genius with oodles of brain.But whether it’s madness or cerebral powers,we don’t think it matters; we’re glad that she’s ours.

Samantha Cinderella Scottwas told she’d have to have a shotThe doctor said, “You’re somewhat sick;I think a shot should do the trick.”He said, “You shouldn’t feel a thing,except perhaps a tiny sting,a painless prick, a poke, a pinch.It shouldn’t even make you flinch.”You won’t begin to bleat or bawl.I doubt that it will hurt at all.I don’t expect to see it brui搜刮引擎优化r swell your arm and start to ooze.”There’s little chance of belly achesor fevers, chills or sudden shakes.It’s not supposed to cause a cough.Your arm will likely not fall off.”I’m guessing that there won’t be lotsof itchy red and purple spots.Convulsions, too, are fairly rare.I think you’ll get to keep your hair.”In fact, the chance is nearly nilthat you’ll become intensely ill,or grow a ghastly greenish hue,or turn into a kangaroo.”It’s nearly certain that you’ll notbecome a fish or flowerpot.I’m quite convinced it’s fair to sayyou won’t turn into mush today.”But if you start to shake and coughor if your head should tumble off,if you become a moose or muleyou’ll get a day away from school.”Samantha Cinderella Scotttook just a moment, deep in thought,then yawned the slightest little yawn,and told the doctor “Bring it on!”

If school were more like baseballwe’d only have to play.We’d hang out in the sunshineand run around all day.We wouldn’t have to study.We’d practice and we’d train.And, best of all, they’d cancelwhenever there was rain.

The turkey taquitos are tasty today.The pizza is perfectly fine.The burgers are better than ever before.The salads are simply divine.It’s something that never has happened before,and something we thought never could.But somehow a miracle must have occurred;The hot lunch is actually good.–Kenn Nesbitt

I got a case of chicken pox.My skin was strewn with spots.And so I grabbed a markerand I played connect-the-dots.I started on my pinky toes.The lines went up my feet,Around my ankles, shins and knees,and right across on my seat.They circled ’round my belly-button,outward toward my hips,then up my chest, around my neck,and past my chin and lips.The lines continued on my ears,my eyebrows, cheeks and nose,then out my arms and in againand downward to my toes.I ran and got a mirror,and I smiled as I was seeing,by linking all the dotsI’d drawn a 3-D human being.

I’m dreaming of warm sandy beaches.I’m dreaming of days by the pool.I’m dreaming of fun in the afternoon sun,and week after week of no school.I’m thinking of swim suits and sprinklers,imagining lemonade stands.I’m lost in a daydream of squirt guns and ice creamand plenty of time on my hands.I’m picturing baseball and hot dogs,Envisioning games at the park,and how it stays light until late every night,and seems like it never gets dark.I long to ride skateboards and scooters.I want to wear t-shirts and shorts.I’d go for a hike, or I’d ride on my bike,or play lots of summertime sports.My revery turns to a yearningto draw on the driveway with chalk.It’s really a bummer to daydream of summerwhile shoveling snow from the walk.