Classic poem of the day
I.
Ah! Dear, proud Charmer, cou'd you prove
At once more Cruel, or less Fair,
Your Cruelty wou'd speak some Love,
In turning Mine to strong Despair;
For luke-warm Love, or cold Indifference,
Keeps with more Pain my Flame in more Suspence.
II.
To make me Yours, you still disdain,
Yet can't consent to let me go;
I of such Kindness must complain,
Which makes you but more cruel grow;
Then let your Presence give......
Member poem of the day
My cousin shares an early memory,
his first of Nature, in the Alps one year –
his Mum, excited, showed him butterflies,
which swooped around him in a dizzying blur
of black and gold. He recalls their whirring wings
in harmony with her familiar tones
as she provided their name. It’s Swallowtails,
remembered, maybe, from the ancient tomes
our grandad owned. And now, three days before
her treatment’s due, he swip...
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