Classic poem of the day
Sleep, little one, sleep,
Your daddy's watching the sheep,
Your mummy guards the little lambs,
In the sweet green meadow land,
Sleep, little one, sleep.
Member poem of the day
Cycling downhill very fast
on a bicycle made of wood,
trees and houses rushing past.
Every breath could be my last,
wooden bicycles aren't that good,
cycling downhill very fast.
The front wheel shaking like a mast
in a storm, a raging flood,
trees and houses rushing past.
I think of wounds, elastoplast
and losing several pints of blood,
cycling downhill very fast.
In my face an icy bla......