"There is a place where voices / Of great guns do not come, / Where rifle, mine, and mortar / For evermore are dumb: . . ." (Poetry by Geoffrey Bache Smith)
Endeavour to be like the Morning Sun /
Now sailing upon the circadian tide /
Who grants warmth to the world when it’s earned none . . . (Poetry by Michael Shindler)
Where to go and what to do / When the beach is too sandy and water too wet / The sky too blue and the sun too bright . . . (Poetry by Christine (Liu) Young)
"When April with its showers sweet / The drought of March has pierced to the root . . ." (Excerpt from The Canterbury Tales Prologue by Geoffrey Chaucer)