Weekly Contest
Classic poem of the day
Ye are the temples of the Lord,
For ye are dearly bought;
And they that do defile the same,
Shall surely come to nought.
Possess not pride in any wise,
Build not your house too high;
But have always before your eyes,
That ye be born to die.
Defraud not him that hired is,
Your labour to sustain;
But give him always out of hand,
His penny for his pain.
And as you would that other men
Against you should proceed,
Do you the same to them again,
When they do stand in need.
And part your portion with the poor,
In money and in meat;
And feed the fainted feeble soul,
With that which ye should eat.
Ask counsel always at the wise,
Give ear unto the end;
Refuse not you the sweet rebuke
Of him that is your friend.
Be thankful always to the Lord,
With prayer and with praise,
Desiring him in all your works
For to direct your ways.
member poem of the day
I lost summer somewhere
in the wildflowers, woke
to trees blushing at my disregard,
wind hurrying the clouds along.
I should have seen the signs.
I watched geese abandon their twigged
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