Poem

Heather Cato  I have a secret I wish to tell, one that when shared may not fare well, but in efforts to remain loyal and true this deep dark secret I will share with you.
 * I Hate to Read **

I hate to read. It's true, I swear. Just the thought sends me to despair and think of all the things I'd rather do than to sit down and read a book or two.

I'd rather be outside playing with friends, or at a tea party that Alice attends. How about fighting off Captain Hook, or with Harry looking for the Sorcerer's   book.

Going with Fern and Wilbur to the fair, or being with Corduroy my favorite bear, certainly seems to be way more fun than to read a book about the sun.

I'd rather be fighting for Robin Hood’s cause or playing with Clifford who has big red paws. How much more fun it would be to sit up under the Giving Tree. A rumble with Ponyboy would be thrilling. A bowl of Momma Bear’s porridge would be filling, but who honestly thinks that reading matters? Please tear the books up into tatters. I’d rather stick up for Stargirl or Cap, or prevent Amelia Bedelia from another mishap. Of course I’ve always wanted a purple purse just like Lilly, and I’d take a jacket in case the Polar Express got chilly. You see, reading really is a bore I’d rather complete every household chore. You can test me if you dare, but I tell you now I’ll beat both the tortoise and the hare.  One might find this revelation a bit surprising, and might cause a small uprising, but the truth is what still remains I hate to read books by John Maynard Keynes.

I do love going on adventures, as long as the books are not the quenchers. Places I’ve been and will never be unlocking the story is the key. When I enter a book I take a trip, often a short time traveler’s blip. As your teacher this might seem rare, but I hate to read. It's true, I swear.