Classic poem of the day
XI
Out in the yellow meadows, where the bee
Hums by us with the honey of the Spring,
And showers of sweet notes from the larks on wing,
Are dropping like a noon-dew, wander we.
Or is it now? or was it then? for now,
As then, the larks from running rings pour showers:
The golden foot of May is on the flowers,
And friendly shadows dance upon her brow.
What's this, when Nature swears there is no cha......
Member poem of the day
Times are simple, less complex,
slower, even, when you're high.
I'm not sure how it happens,
but I love the sweet by-and-by.
I relish times like these when,
my creative blood can flow.
As time creeps ever onward,
the dam within me JUST LETS GO!
And like a Rorschach inkblot,
my deepest thoughts spill across the page,
slowly the image shifts, revealing,
line by line the words engage.
-Five grueling mi......