The way its mist sprays from the wakeFormidable force that will give and take Gazing out from beyond the bowMesmerized in the here and now Sunrise sizzles and melts awayNo better place to exalt a day Lips stained with the taste of saltFriend and foe it’s not her fault Some days calm and so sereneBut mood swings bring a wrath marine Shimmering blue, tremendous and … [Read more...] about The Sea, By: Steven Mcdonald
Stanzas Suggested In A Steamboat Off Saint Bees’ Heads, On The Coast Of Cumberland, By: William Wordsworth
If Life were slumber on a bed of down,Toil unimposed, vicissitude unknown,Sad were our lot: no hunter of the hareExults like him whose javelin from the lairHas roused the lion; no one plucks the rose,Whose proffered beauty in safe shelter blows'Mid a trim garden's summer luxuries,With joy like his who climbs, on hands and knees,For some rare plant, yon Headland of St. … [Read more...] about Stanzas Suggested In A Steamboat Off Saint Bees’ Heads, On The Coast Of Cumberland, By: William Wordsworth
Not A Fool Nor A Pop Culture 2ooL, By: Laquan White
I see the constant uptickOf apartments being builtThat aren’t affordableHence the reason hotels are at capacity The central sides sunshineMakes my skin cryObserving adolescents carelesslyRunning away from distracted parents Ain’t hard to tell it’s FridayDoorDash Burger Kingsmells Linger in the HallwaysEnd of the week relief The hardworking never seemTo get deserved … [Read more...] about Not A Fool Nor A Pop Culture 2ooL, By: Laquan White
Stanzas, By: William Wordsworth
Once I could hail (howe'er serene the sky)The Moon re-entering her monthly round,No faculty yet given me to espyThe dusky Shape within her arms imbound,That thin memento of effulgence lostWhich some have named her Predecessor's ghost. . Young, like the Crescent that above me shone,Nought I perceived within it dull or dim;All that appeared was suitable to OneWhose fancy had a … [Read more...] about Stanzas, By: William Wordsworth
Speak!, By: William Wordsworth
Why art thou silent! Is thy love a plantOf such weak fibre that the treacherous airOf absence withers what was once so fair?Is there no debt to pay, no boon to grant?Yet have my thoughts for thee been vigilantBound to thy service with unceasing care,The mind’s least generous wish a mendicantFor nought but what thy happiness could spare.Speak though this soft warm heart, once … [Read more...] about Speak!, By: William Wordsworth