Classic poem of the day
The Master's voice was sweet:
“I gave My life for thee;
Bear thou this cross thro' pain and loss,
Arise and follow Me.”
I clasped it in my hand—
O Thou! who diedst for me,
The day is bright, my step is light,
'Tis sweet to follow Thee!
Through the long Summer days
I followed lovingly;
'Twas bliss to hear His voice so near,
His glorious face to see.
Down where the lilies pale
Fringed the bright river's brim,
......
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...
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