The Best Fluffy Pancakes recipe you will fall in love with. Full of tips and tricks to help you make the best pancakes.
Sounds of the winter too, Sunshine upon the mountains—many a distant strain From cheery railroad train—from nearer field, barn, house The whispering air—even the mute crops, garner’d apples, corn, Children’s and women’s tones—rhythm of many a farmer and of flail,…
Soon shall the winter’s foil be here; Soon shall these icy ligatures unbind and melt—A little while, And air, soil, wave, suffused shall be in softness, bloom and growth—a thousand forms shall rise From these dead clods and chills as…
1 COME said the Muse, Sing me a song no poet yet has chanted, Sing me the universal. In this broad earth of ours, Amid the measureless grossness and the slag, Enclosed and safe within its central heart, Nestles…
1 A CALIFORNIA song, A prophecy and indirection, a thought impalpable to breathe as air, A chorus of dryads, fading, departing, or hamadryads departing, A murmuring, fateful, giant voice, out of the earth and sky, Voice of a mighty dying…
1 Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road, Healthy, free, the world before me, The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose. Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune, Henceforth I whimper no more,…
1 (AH little recks the laborer, How near his work is holding him to God, The loving Laborer through space and time.) After all not to create only, or found only, But to bring perhaps from afar what is…
1 WEAPON shapely, naked, wan, Head from the mother’s bowels drawn, Wooded flesh and metal bone, limb only one and lip only one, Gray-blue leaf by red-heat grown, helve produced from a little seed sown, Resting the grass amid and…
Poet. O A new song, a free song, Flapping, flapping, flapping, flapping, by sounds, by voices clearer, By the wind’s voice and that of the drum, By the banner’s voice and child’s voice and sea’s voice and father’s voice, Low on…
1 NOW list to my morning’s romanza, I tell the signs of the Answerer, To the cities and farms I sing as they spread in the sunshine before me. A young man comes to me bearing a message from…
MANHATTAN’S streets I saunter’d pondering, On Time, Space, Reality—on such as these, and abreast with them Prudence. The last explanation always remains to be made about prudence, Little and large alike drop quietly aside from the prudence that suits immortality.…