Classic poem of the day
Deep asleep, deep asleep,
Deep asleep it lies,
The still lake of Semmerwater
Under the still skies.
And many a fathom, many a fathom,
Many a fathom below,
In a king's tower and a queen's bower
The fishes come and go.
Once there stood by Semmerwater
A mickle town and tall;
King's tower and queen's bower,
And the wakeman on the wall.
Came a beggar halt and sore:
" I faint for lack of bread. "
...
Member poem of the day
How many Christmases of Mrs Fern?
I've come to depend that every tree
hid her presents in its haunches:
Dandy annuals, selection boxes, Parker pens.
But we were kids then
and cared little for Mrs Fern,
the elderly neighbour who moved away.
Unconcerned that the parcels were seamless,
the Wise Men endless
and faithful whichever side we tore.
Or how she willed on her knotted fingers,
fireplace flickering our muddied boys'...
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