The Best Fluffy Pancakes recipe you will fall in love with. Full of tips and tricks to help you make the best pancakes.

Category Poets

Hunting Fathers

Our hunting fathers told the story Of the sadness of the creatures, Pitied the limits and the lack Set in their finished features; Saw in the lion’s intolerant look, Behind the quarry’s dying glare, Love raging for, the personal glory…

Horae Canonicae: Terce

After shaking paws with his dog, (Whose bark would tell the world that he is always kind,) The hangman sets off briskly over the heath; He does not know yet who will be provided To do the high works of…

Horae Canonicae: Sext

I You need not see what someone is doing to know if it is his vocation, you have only to watch his eyes: a cook mixing a sauce, a surgeon making a primary incision, a clerk completing a bill of…

Horae Canonicae: Prime

Simultaneously, as soundlessly, Spontaneously, suddenly As, at the vaunt of the dawn, the kind Gates of the body fly open To its world beyond, the gates of the mind, The horn gate and the ivory gate Swing to, swing shut,…

Horae Canonicae: Nones

What we know to be not possible, Though time after time foretold By wild hermits, by shaman and sybil Gibbering in their trances, Or revealed to a child in some chance rhyme Like will and kill, comes to pass Before…

Horae Canonicae: Lauds

Among the leaves the small birds sing; The crow of the cock commands awaking: In solitude, for company. Bright shines the sun on creatures mortal; Men of their neighbours become sensible: In solitude, for company. The crow of the cock…

Horae Canonicae: Compline

Now, as desire and the things desired Cease to require attention, As, seizing its chance, the body escapes, Section by section, to join Plants in their chaster peace which is more To its real taste, now a day is its…

Here War Is Simple

Here war is simple like a monument: A telephone is speaking to a man; Flags on a map assert that troops were sent; A boy brings milk in bowls. There is a plan For living men in terror of their…

Grub First, Then Ethics

Should the shade of Plato Visit us, anxious to know how anthropos is, we could say to him: “Well, we can read to ourselves, our use of holy numbers would shock you, and a poet may lament—’Where is Telford whose…

Give me a doctor

Give me a doctor partridge-plump, Short in the leg and broad in the rump, An endomorph with gentle hands Who’ll never make absurd demands That I abandon all my vices Nor pull a long face in a crisis, But with…