Classic poem of the day
Xxxix Church to be erected
Be this the chosen site; the virgin sod,
Moistened from age to age by dewy eve,
Shall disappear, and grateful earth receive
The corner-stone from hands that build to God.
Yon reverend hawthorns, hardened to the rod
Of winter storms, yet budding cheerfully;
Those forest oaks of Druid memory,
Shall long survive, to shelter the Abode
Of genuine Faith. Where, haply, 'mid this band
Of daisies, shepherds sate......
Member poem of the day
Like a sparkling Roman candle –
Red beardtongue dots the canyon.
Oh, what handsome bugles!
That decorate the trail along
Where pebbles were brushed aside
And sway with the breeze –
Not to elicit surprise
But to befriend the greenery.
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