The Best Fluffy Pancakes recipe you will fall in love with. Full of tips and tricks to help you make the best pancakes.
For what as easy For what thought small, For what is well Because between, To you simply From me I mean. Who goes with who The bedclothes say, As I and you Go kissed away, The data given, The senses…
(for John and Teckla Clark) Ours yet not ours, being set apart As a shrine to friendship, Empty and silent most of the year, This room awaits from you What you alone, as visitor, can bring, A weekend of personal…
That night when joy began Our narrowest veins to flush, We waited for the flash Of morning’s levelled gun. But morning let us pass, And day by day relief Outgrows his nervous laugh, Grown credulous of peace, As mile by…
Fish in the unruffled lakes Their swarming colours wear, Swans in the winter air A white perfection have, And the great lion walks Through his innocent grove; Lion, fish and swan Act, and are gone Upon Time’s toppling wave. We,…
Eyes look into the well, Tears run down from the eye; The tower cracked and fell From the quiet winter sky. Under a midnight stone Love was buried by thieves; The robbed heart begs for a bone, The damned rustle…
Perfection, of a kind, was what he was after, And the poetry he invented was easy to understand; He knew human folly like the back of his hand, And was greatly interested in armies and fleets; When he laughed, respectable…
Left by his friend to breakfast alone on the white Italian shore, his Terrible Demon arose Over his shoulder; he wept to himself in the night, A dirty landscape-painter who hated his nose. The legions of cruel inquisitive They Were…
Our earth in 1969 Is not the planet I call mine, The world, I mean, that gives me strength To hold off chaos at arm’s length. My Eden landscapes and their climes Are constructs from Edwardian times, When bath-rooms took…
Deftly, admiral, cast your fly Into the slow deep hover, Till the wise old trout mistake and die; Salt are the deeps that cover The glittering fleets you led, White is your head. Read on, ambassador, engrossed In your favourite…
“O who can ever gaze his fill,” Farmer and fisherman say, “On native shore and local hill, Grudge aching limb or callus on the hand? Father, grandfather stood upon this land, And here the pilgrims from our loins will stand.”…