Classic poem of the day
Hand in hand they dance in a row,
Hither and thither, and to and fro,
Flip! Flap! Flop! and away they go—
Flutt'ring creatures as white as snow,
Like restive horses they caper and prance;
Like fairy-tale witches they wildly dance;
Rounded in front, but hollow behind,
They shiver and skip in the merry March wind.
One I saw dancing excitedly,
Struggling so wildly till she was free,
Then, leaving pegs and clothes-line behind her,
She flew like a bird, and no one can find her.
I saw her gleam, like a sail, in the sun,
Flipping and flapping and flopping for fun.
Nobody knows where she now can be,
Hid in a ditch, or drowned in the sea.
She was my handkerchief not long ago,
But she'll never come back to my pocket, I know.
member poem of the day
The road crew assembled some using a push broom sweeping into edges of K-rails placed to stem the Laurel Canyon hillside mudbath's doom Customers convened sipping coffee on the patio occasionally glancing up from their I-phones their soon to come up number signaled by the waving of a rag reflecting in the freshly waxed glow Average consumers ventured outside again in relief rushing around madly in their self absorption oblivious to the promise of the covenant rainbow or even reinstating a hint of belief The vending machine stocker whistled down the hallway claiming to himself he merely liked the echo while the gray pallor faced city mortician caught a ghostly brief reflection of his white labcoat spraying disinfectant on the steel table having just finished attaching the final tag on the toe of Portland's frozen homeless pulled out of store's doorway- Crazy bag lady Mary-Machine gunner veteran Tom- Schizoid babbler Dick Changey n' one John Doe. 1-13-2017 Duncan R. M. Ferguson