The Best Fluffy Pancakes recipe you will fall in love with. Full of tips and tricks to help you make the best pancakes.
We turn not older with years, but newer every day.
I cautious, scanned my little life— I winnowed what would fade From what would last till Heads like mine Should be a-dreaming laid. I put the latter in a Barn— The former, blew away. I went one winter morning And…
I cannot live with You — It would be Life — And Life is over there — Behind the Shelf The Sexton keeps the Key to — Putting up Our Life — His Porcelain — Like a Cup — Discarded…
I cannot dance upon my Toes— No Man instructed me— But oftentimes, among my mind, A Glee possesseth me, That had I Ballet knowledge— Would put itself abroad In Pirouette to blanch a Troupe— Or lay a Prima, mad, And…
I cannot buy it—’tis not sold— There is no other in the World— Mine was the only one I was so happy I forgot To shut the Door And it went out And I am all alone— If I could…
I cannot be ashamed Because I cannot see The love you offer— Magnitude Reverses Modesty And I cannot be proud Because a Height so high Involves Alpine Requirements And Services of Snow.
I can’t tell you—but you feel it— Nor can you tell me— Saints, with ravished slate and pencil Solve our April Day! Sweeter than a vanished frolic From a vanished green! Swifter than the hoofs of Horsemen Round a Ledge…
I can wade Grief— Whole Pools of it— I’m used to that— But the least push of Joy Breaks up my feet— And I tip—drunken— Let no Pebble—smile— ‘Twas the New Liquor— That was all! Power is only Pain— Stranded,…
I Came to buy a smile—today— But just a single smile— The smallest one upon your face Will suit me just as well— The one that no one else would miss It shone so very small— I’m pleading at the…
I bring an unaccustomed wineTo lips long parchingNext to mine,And summon them to drink; Crackling with fever, they Essay,I turn my brimming eyes away,And come next hour to look. The hands still hug the tardy glass—The lips I would have…
I breathed enough to take the Trick— And now, removed from Air— I simulate the Breath, so well— That One, to be quite sure— The Lungs are stirless—must descend Among the Cunning Cells— And touch the Pantomine—Himself, How numb, the…