The Poetry of RenSpur for Saturday, February 28, 2009

FOREST FOR THE TREES Beside the river's branch, he can not leave, and here must stick, all green and brown. Naught he pines, with colours ash, nor willowy weeps, though rooted down. Winds may bark, he humbly bows, though needled thick, logs not a frown. No timbred voice, bemoans wearied limbs, for... Sign in to see full entry.

I REMEMBER, MOMMA I remember, Momma, you held me through the night, or rocked my wooden cradle, oft until daylight. I remember, Momma, your warm, tender touch, how you cared for me, with love so very much. I remember, Momma, a beautiful, lovely sight, your golden, flowing hair, before the window,... Sign in to see full entry.