Classic poem of the day
Gusty March is dead and gone!
April heard his parting sighs,
Smiling through her tearful eyes
At the sweet days coming on.
Nature caught the lustre meek
From her mild eye twinkling blue;
Caught and kept the pearly dew
Trickling from her tender cheek.
Young leaves laughed to see her come;
Drowsy streams began to dance;
Brooks looked up with grateful glance;
Bees gave forth a happy hum.
Flowers flock......
Member poem of the day
WARNING
Home is where you feel safe.
Mine is built from parts of you,
it's true.
