Classic poem of the day
A REAL Butterfly, I mean,
With Orange-pointed saffron wings
And coat of inky Velveteen —
None of your Fashion-plated Things
That dangle from the Apronstrings
Of Mrs. Grundy — or you see
Loll by the Stage Door or the Wings,
Or sadly flit from Tea to Tea.
Not such a Butterfly was he;
He lived for Sunshi......
Member poem of the day
The September morning dawned serenely,
Soberly, on my unsuspecting America,
Announcing yet another day of ambitions,
Glorious dreams and hope.Then, suddenly,
Disrupting the diurnal equilibrium, flying
Metallic phantoms of apocalyptic terror
Streaked surreptitiously across the placid skies
With horrendous, nightmarish intent,
Demolishing the twin paragons of high
Finance, prosperity and progress! Tragedy
Struck, leaving ghoulish, bi...
