Weekly Contest
Classic poem of the day
This Impromptu appeared, many years ago, among the Author's poems, from which, in subsequent editions, it was excluded. It is reprinted at the request of the Friend in whose presence the lines were thrown off.
The sun has long been set,
The stars are out by twos and threes,
The little birds are piping yet
Among the bushes and trees;
There's a cuckoo, and one or two thrushes,
And a far-off wind that rushes,
And a sound of water that gushes,
And the cuckoo's sovereign cry
Fills all the hollow of the sky.
Who would go " parading"
In London, and " masquerading,"
On such a night of June
With that beautiful soft half-moon,
And all these innocent blisses?
On such a night as this is!
member poem of the day
I customized my wardrobe
and accessorized my life.
I amortized my mortgage
and electrolysized my wife.
I improvised my history
and satinized my bed.
Yet I never really lived
until I viagrasized my head.
My sense all are magnified
from meow to lion's roar.
I can see halfway to China
or a microscopic spore.
I can hear you even now
as you talk behind my back.
I can smell the blood of an
Englishman and follow any track.
I may be less than beautiful,
and give the girls a fright.
I may be ill-proportioned
and tip over day and night,
But my brain can hold five
libraries and images galore.
I've got more bytes than IBM,
an immeasurable IQ score.
You can scandalize your neighbors,
and immortalize your friends.
You can criticize your congressman
and maximize your dividends.
You can lobotomize your enemies
and leave them for brain-dead.
Yet you've never really lived
until you've viagrasized your head.
