Classic poem of the day
Still , still you linger,
A bright bird in sleep's thicket,
While baying winds like hunting hounds
Through the forest sweep:
Still, still you dream,
As the moon dreams in a river,
Filling with your radiance
The shadowy stream of sleep.
The hunting-winds are sleeping now,
The moon has vanished
Like a flimsy weft of white mist,
Has flown to streams afar:
The trees shake off their dusky dreams,
Birds sing and fount......
Member poem of the day
Winter came early:
the driving snows,
the delicate frosts
that crystallize
all we forget
or refuse to know,
all we regret
that makes us wise.
Spring was delayed:
the nubile rose,
the tentative sun,
the wind’s soft sighs,
all we omit
or refuse to show,
whatever we shield
behind guarded eyes.
Originally published by Borderless Journal (Singapore)
Ba...
