Classic poem of the day
Gold in its Ore, must melted be, to bring
It midwift from its mother womb: requires
To make it shine and a rich market thing,
A fining Pot, and Test, and melting fire.
So do I, Lord, before thy grace do shine
In mee, require, thy fire may mee refine.
My Flame hath left its Coale, my fire's gone t'bed:
Like Embers in their ashie lodgen gray.
Lord let the Influences of thy head
Most graciously remoove this rug away.
I......
Member poem of the day
A green leaf door in itself symbolic,
that prequel to enchantment or magic,
please seize the moment you’d be well-advised,
for the life you longed for to be realised
Popular poems
Random poem
Random Image
