Classic poem of the day
New doth the sun appear,
The mountains' snows decay,
Crown'd with frail flowers forth comes the baby year.
My soul, time posts away;
And thou yet in that frost
Which flower and fruit hath lost,
As if all here immortal were, dost stay.
For shame! thy powers awake,
Look to that Heaven which never night makes black,
And there at that immortal sun's bright rays,
Deck thee with flowers which fear not rage of days!
Member poem of the day
artisan bread sliced
I baked on a stone
in a oven medium
on a warm summer day
placed on a stoneware platter white
on a table of butcher block
with the condiments I’d need
to prepare my noon feast
from the deli bought
baloney fresh as can be
on a platter laid out
slices fresh and round
to complement these
from the grocery I got
a tin of bright red
with Ritz crackers filled
with a butte...
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