The Best Fluffy Pancakes recipe you will fall in love with. Full of tips and tricks to help you make the best pancakes.
By then the poetry is writtenand the wild rose of the worldblooms to last so short a timebefore its petals fall.The air is musicand its melody a spiraluntil it widensbeyond the tip of timeand so is lostto poetry and the…
To sit and dream, to sit and read, To sit and learn about the world Outside our world of here and now— our problem world—To dream of vast horizons of the soul Through dreams made whole, Unfettered free—help me! All…
Having known robins on the window sillAnd loves over which to grieve,What can you dream of nowIn which you still believe? Having known snow in winterAnd the burst of blooms in spring,What can you seek nowTo make your heart still…
SEND FOR THE PIED PIPER AND LET HIM PIPE THE RATS AWAY.SEND FOR ROBIN HOOD TO CLINCH THE ANTI-POVERTY CAMPAIGN,SEND FOR THE FAIRY QUEEN WITH A WAVE OF THE WANDTO MAKE US ALL INTO PRINCES AND PRINCESSES.SEND FOR KING ARTHUR…
I dream of the drumsAnd rememberNights without stars in Africa. Remember, remember, remember! I dream of the drumsAnd rememberSlave ships, billowing sails,The Western Ocean,And the landing at Jamestown. Remember, remember, remember! I dream of drumsAnd recall, like a picture,Congo Square…
Chosts of all too solid flesh,Dark ghosts come back to haunt you now,These dark ghosts to taunt you—Yet ghosts so solid, ghosts so realThey may not only haunt you—But rape, rob, steal,Sit-in, stand-in, stall-in, vote-in(Even vote for real in Alabam’)And…
I have thisStrange small memoryOf deathAnd seven treesAnd winds that haveNo cestasiesTo searchAnd findAnd searchAnd findThe searchThat isNot mine.
There’s a dream in the landWith its back against the wallBy muddled names and strangeSometimes the dream is called. There are those who claimThis dream for theirs alone—A sin for which, we knowThey must atone. Unless shared in commonLike sunlight…
Little dreamsOf springtimeBud in sunny airWith no rootsTo nourish them,Since no stemsAre there—Detached,Naïve,So young,On air aloneThey’re hung.
And sowe lick our chops at Birminghamand say, “See!Southern dogs have vindicated me—I knew that this would come.”But who are we to beso proud that savageshave proven a pointtaken late in timeto show how liberal I am?Above the struggleI can…