Classic poem of the day
Observe the weary birds e're night be done,
How they would fain call up the tardy Sun,
With Feathers hung with dew,
And trembling voices too,
They court their glorious Planet to appear,
That they may find recruits of spirits there.
The drooping flowers hang their heads,
And languish down into their beds:
While Brooks more bold and fierce than they,
Wanting those beams, from whence
All things drink influence,
Open......
Member poem of the day
Forgiveness isn't, "I'll forgive you, if you'll forgive me," it's a symphony of lilacs in the springtime fields, and a song from the wren's delicate heart, it's when you awaken after a bitter night of anger melted into tiredness, and moments of grief turned to lavender scented pillows lulling you into a resplendent dream, of white doves ascending to Heaven carrying whispers of the world praying, as little workers in your mind build a bridge of steel cables of peace forged by God, whe......
