Weekly Contest
No contests this week.
Classic poem of the day
O say what is that thing called light,
Which I can ne'er enjoy?
What is the blessing of the sight?
O tell your poor blind boy!
You talk of wond'rous things you see,
You say the sun shines bright!
I feel him warm, but how can he
Then make it day or night?
My day or night myself I make,
Whene'er I wake or play;
And could I ever keep awake,
It would be always day.
With heavy sighs I often hear
You mourn my hopeless woe.
But sure with patience I may bear
A loss I ne'er can know.
Then let not what I cannot have
My cheer of mind destroy.
Whilst thus I sing, I am a king,
Although a poor blind boy!
member poem of the day
Come all ye young mice who scurry around Be very careful if in a big house you are found. It was an adventure - my friend told me so I was really excited and wanted to go... I got caught in a trap though not in pain There was tasty food there but I won’t go again. I had ventured inside where I smelt a nice treat but the door closed suddenly as I started to eat. I got frightened soon after and tried to get out No chance of that and no one about... After some time waiting I heard heavy feet. Then my trap home was lifted out on to the street. I was carried along and my trap was set down The door sprang open and I was safe on the ground I am happy to say it was scary but fun....... But I am much happier now and still able to run. I have heard sad stories and lost many a friend Some traps are deadly and that was their end. So take my advice and eat where you may But from all those traps please stay away!
