Classic poem of the day
When Ruth was left half desolate,
Her father took another mate;
And Ruth, not seven years old,
A slighted child, at her own will
Went wandering over dale and hill,
In thoughtless freedom bold.
And she had made a pipe of straw,
And music from that pipe could draw
Like sounds of winds and floods;
Had built a bower upon the green,
As if she from her birth had been
An infant of the woods.
Beneath her father's roof, alone
Sh......
Member poem of the day
I see a heart
Bleeding
Poison and prattle
She approaches.
“Mirror, Mirror, on the wall,
“Who’s the fairest of them all?”
I might reply, “Of what consequence is it to you?”
To anyone?
But deceit reigns supreme in this kingdom
My opinion doesn’t matter
Instead, I must reflect
Upon what she sees
Do I not have my own thoughts? My own insecurities?
My own observations?
......
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