One day there was a bird who wanted to build a nest. She needed to find a good twig. She found one that was too long, and one that was too short, and then she finally a good one.
she reached out for the twig that was floating past her in the flood. she desperately needed to hold on to something. it wasn’t much help, really, but gave her some hope.
ok so if i broke it off and it snapped, i would call it a twig. If my arm were any larger, I couldn’t call it a twig!! What if my arm just snapped and I ate it? This is pitifual. I’m looking at my pencil and all i see is mighty oak. The mightiest of all oaks powerful guarding its fortress of acorns and squirrels armies and such.
there was a twig that was on a branch, and that branch was on a tree, and i dont know what this has to do with me. why am i writing about a twig? because it appeared at the top of a web page, saying i must write. so i am.
She snapped the twig in half. fully aware of what to do and she did it. the twi was gone and so my my flu and she flew with it on her back, just a name in her recollection. collecting lives in her pocket like lint and twigs and paperclips suetepapeles
twigs come from trees. they usually snap in the woods in horror movies. Not sure why. are people really just anti-stealth and feel the need to step on twigs? anti-twig?
Ever wonder if snapping twigs in inappropriate settings will make people think that they are in horror movies?
a branch. It is brown, it is woody. They’re on trees, and I wonder if they taste good, they fall of the trees a lot, they’re actually kind of boring, nothing too special about them.
I saw a twig on a tree
The tree was green
The spring leaves were fresh
I cut the twig off
and made it grow in a glass of water
It grew roots, and I planted it
Soon a new tree grew in my back yard.
Twig war früher mein Lieblingsbuch. Deines auch. Wir saßen oft da, lasen gemeinsam und schwiegen einträchtig. Schöne Zeiten damals. Nur leider sind sie vergangen. Ich wollte mich melden, diese Woche. Letzte Woche auch schon. Leider kam ich nicht dazu. Ach, ich wäre dazu gekommen, irgendwie. Wenn ich gewollt hätte. Wollte ich wirklich nicht?
twig, i don’t know what it i, i know it was or is the name of a top model. i saw here on america’ next top model, I wonder if twig means anything else. If I had time I would go look for it in google, but
The buds looked too heavy on the little twig – one wondered it could support so much life. Dangling thier ready to become ripe apples. not much to look at, the littlest knobbliest twig but bearer of rich ripe fruit.
i took some twigs and started to build a tiny little house for my pet twiggy wiggy.but midway twig house collapsed due to heavy wind.and twiggy was left without a house
There was that story I read once, I think it was in a highlights magazine or something. Two brothers were arguing about something-or-other, perhaps they had to rake the leaves together and just didn’t want to, and then
Twig makes a tree a resemblence to life. I have many friends that are twigs and many that are branches. I don’t need any more twig friends because they break easily.
this life is like a twig, strong and reslient when attached to the rest of the full bodied tree, upon falling away from the safety of the comfortable home, the twig grows brittle…
she stepped onto the twig and heard it snap beneath her foot. the sound was so simple yet so loud in the stillness of the night,. looking down at the broken pieces she bent to pick them up and began walking again. it was the sound of another twig snapping behind her that caused her to twirl around and scream in terror as the hand clamped suddenly on her mouth preventing the scream of tearing through her throught. Oh god what was to become of her. Kicking she managed to get a few blows onto her attacker before her foot connected with his personal area and he let go!
twigs are small, and all ove the yard everytime the wind blows. I hate samll twigs that get stuck in the lawnmower and fly out everywhere hitting everything, that really hurts if it hits you
by Michael michal.loudermilk@att.net on 09.26.2009
Twig, all alone. You remind me of Stig of the Dump only because the words sound similar. Now that’s a good book to read if you get the chance.
The twig hung from the branch of tree that had fallen. It was pointing up to the late afternoon sky of an autumn that had been poor for the farmers of Humboldt. But they didn’t care. They didn’t care as they passed the twig that it was pointing upward toward that brilliant blue washed with grey and cold. They cared only about the harvest and how fast the rains were said to be coming this year. They cared only about the road on which they walked. They cared only about their stomachs.
The twig cracked beneath my foot and I spun round, hoping no one had heard. They hadn’t. I carried on in the darkness and heard more twigs cracking, I kept stopping to listen but no one had wakened. Sliently I crouched down and continued on my way, picking up the sticks that lay in my path so as not to make any noise. It was slow progress, but it was progress, and more importantly, it was quiet.
Snapped like a twig.
My heart, my soul, my very being, broken in one tiny movement from you.
You didn’t even have to try.
You didn’t even care.
You just did it, breaking me into little pieces for the fire that is your selfish life and setting me alight.
Now I burn, not so brightly, but always in pain.
it is inevitable but true. they are the epitome of existence. if these stop existing, it can be prophesized that i will stop existing. for they are twigs, and they are attached to much greater things.
I like to read a lot because we learn a lot from books what else can I say? my favorite book is the Bible, Tht is my salvaton, my guide, my lamp, my bread, the way to the Father, God’s word
The twif seamed to cling to my wool jacket with the tenacity of a bulldog holding onto a bone.
Pick away as I may at the thing, it wouldn’t come undone.
I wore it like a medal all day.
The things left undone.
A small brown twig crunched under my boot as I tiptoed through the forest. I frowned, and tried to avoid stepping on any more sticks or crunchy leaves. I had to be silent. As silent as the deer that passed this way.
One day there was a bird who wanted to build a nest. She needed to find a good twig. She found one that was too long, and one that was too short, and then she finally a good one.
she reached out for the twig that was floating past her in the flood. she desperately needed to hold on to something. it wasn’t much help, really, but gave her some hope.
twig, branch, limb, tree, those are the things I would want to… something that ryhmes with tree.
the twig lay on the floor amongst all the oranges browns, redsa and gold leaves
ok so if i broke it off and it snapped, i would call it a twig. If my arm were any larger, I couldn’t call it a twig!! What if my arm just snapped and I ate it? This is pitifual. I’m looking at my pencil and all i see is mighty oak. The mightiest of all oaks powerful guarding its fortress of acorns and squirrels armies and such.
there was a twig that was on a branch, and that branch was on a tree, and i dont know what this has to do with me. why am i writing about a twig? because it appeared at the top of a web page, saying i must write. so i am.
branches on a tree. mostly brown in color. many leaves. sprouts seeds that grow into trees. and now writers block.
She snapped the twig in half. fully aware of what to do and she did it. the twi was gone and so my my flu and she flew with it on her back, just a name in her recollection. collecting lives in her pocket like lint and twigs and paperclips suetepapeles
These veins are like twigs, cracking beneath my weight. These living, breathing twigs which rely on I to survive. Survive, survive.
twigs come from trees. they usually snap in the woods in horror movies. Not sure why. are people really just anti-stealth and feel the need to step on twigs? anti-twig?
Ever wonder if snapping twigs in inappropriate settings will make people think that they are in horror movies?
twig twiggy salvador bestro.
What a nice sort of a chap that one.
He always used to wiggle his ears when no one was watching
a branch. It is brown, it is woody. They’re on trees, and I wonder if they taste good, they fall of the trees a lot, they’re actually kind of boring, nothing too special about them.
I saw a twig on a tree
The tree was green
The spring leaves were fresh
I cut the twig off
and made it grow in a glass of water
It grew roots, and I planted it
Soon a new tree grew in my back yard.
A twig… is a tiny person. It’s a small thing. It’s a breakable thing. It is a skninny, nearly insubstantial thing. It is a natural thing.
A snap. What was that? A bear? Mountain lion. Here? In the middle of Manhattan? No. A mugger. Run! Wait.
Twig war früher mein Lieblingsbuch. Deines auch. Wir saßen oft da, lasen gemeinsam und schwiegen einträchtig. Schöne Zeiten damals. Nur leider sind sie vergangen. Ich wollte mich melden, diese Woche. Letzte Woche auch schon. Leider kam ich nicht dazu. Ach, ich wäre dazu gekommen, irgendwie. Wenn ich gewollt hätte. Wollte ich wirklich nicht?
twig, i don’t know what it i, i know it was or is the name of a top model. i saw here on america’ next top model, I wonder if twig means anything else. If I had time I would go look for it in google, but
The buds looked too heavy on the little twig – one wondered it could support so much life. Dangling thier ready to become ripe apples. not much to look at, the littlest knobbliest twig but bearer of rich ripe fruit.
He was a twig. A pure twig. With skinny, twiggy arms, and a twiggy torso. It was like hugging myself.
i took some twigs and started to build a tiny little house for my pet twiggy wiggy.but midway twig house collapsed due to heavy wind.and twiggy was left without a house
There was that story I read once, I think it was in a highlights magazine or something. Two brothers were arguing about something-or-other, perhaps they had to rake the leaves together and just didn’t want to, and then
Twig makes a tree a resemblence to life. I have many friends that are twigs and many that are branches. I don’t need any more twig friends because they break easily.
its a part of a tree. its skinny and brown? i have friends who look like twigs too. i dont know how they got that way.
this life is like a twig, strong and reslient when attached to the rest of the full bodied tree, upon falling away from the safety of the comfortable home, the twig grows brittle…
she stepped onto the twig and heard it snap beneath her foot. the sound was so simple yet so loud in the stillness of the night,. looking down at the broken pieces she bent to pick them up and began walking again. it was the sound of another twig snapping behind her that caused her to twirl around and scream in terror as the hand clamped suddenly on her mouth preventing the scream of tearing through her throught. Oh god what was to become of her. Kicking she managed to get a few blows onto her attacker before her foot connected with his personal area and he let go!
I don’t understand, wut lolololl
She snapped a twig from a nearby branch
And twirled it, blissfully.
She sat down by the riverbank
Under the willow tree.
The clouds above
Reflected her love
For everything outside.
A bird perched
And began to chirp,
As she began to cry.
twigs are small, and all ove the yard everytime the wind blows. I hate samll twigs that get stuck in the lawnmower and fly out everywhere hitting everything, that really hurts if it hits you
Twig, all alone. You remind me of Stig of the Dump only because the words sound similar. Now that’s a good book to read if you get the chance.
The twig hung from the branch of tree that had fallen. It was pointing up to the late afternoon sky of an autumn that had been poor for the farmers of Humboldt. But they didn’t care. They didn’t care as they passed the twig that it was pointing upward toward that brilliant blue washed with grey and cold. They cared only about the harvest and how fast the rains were said to be coming this year. They cared only about the road on which they walked. They cared only about their stomachs.
The twig snapped. He ran through the woods and snapped another twig. He made a fire with many twigs.
The twig cracked beneath my foot and I spun round, hoping no one had heard. They hadn’t. I carried on in the darkness and heard more twigs cracking, I kept stopping to listen but no one had wakened. Sliently I crouched down and continued on my way, picking up the sticks that lay in my path so as not to make any noise. It was slow progress, but it was progress, and more importantly, it was quiet.
Stark. Beautiful. Bright white light, Every twig standing out in sharp contrast to the gray sky behind it.
Twig. A lonely branch. Forgotten. Fell off a tree, maybe got stepped on. A lonely life. A troublesome existence.
Snapped like a twig.
My heart, my soul, my very being, broken in one tiny movement from you.
You didn’t even have to try.
You didn’t even care.
You just did it, breaking me into little pieces for the fire that is your selfish life and setting me alight.
Now I burn, not so brightly, but always in pain.
it is inevitable but true. they are the epitome of existence. if these stop existing, it can be prophesized that i will stop existing. for they are twigs, and they are attached to much greater things.
I like to read a lot because we learn a lot from books what else can I say? my favorite book is the Bible, Tht is my salvaton, my guide, my lamp, my bread, the way to the Father, God’s word
fingerskinny sticking through bars greedy little face like a monkey called her twig cos she was brown and gnarled and dry.
The twif seamed to cling to my wool jacket with the tenacity of a bulldog holding onto a bone.
Pick away as I may at the thing, it wouldn’t come undone.
I wore it like a medal all day.
The things left undone.
A small brown twig crunched under my boot as I tiptoed through the forest. I frowned, and tried to avoid stepping on any more sticks or crunchy leaves. I had to be silent. As silent as the deer that passed this way.