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Innocent: It was never my intention to leave
Your pretense had me yearning for more of you
Like waves crashing against the shore
So my heart beat when your voice hit my ears
Poem of the day
Ballade Of The Midnight Forest
by Andrew Lang
Still sing the mocking fairies, as of old,
Beneath the shade of thorn and holly-tree;
The west wind breathes upon them, pure and cold,
And wolves still dread Diana roaming free
In secret woodland with her company.
'Tis thought the peasants' hovels know her rite
When now the wolds are bathed in silver light,
And first the moonrise breaks the dusky grey,
...
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