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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 03-June 05:34:18 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 39588
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Eight Ages of the Portuguese Man
[time] => 2004-03-21 10:16:25
[hometext] => Inspired by Shakespeare's Seven Ages of Man
[bodytext] => 1: Friends and family come to see a baby screaming loudly. On horse and cart they head for home, parents smiling proudly. 2: And now school's out for summer attention he doth crave, with a wetsuit and a surfboard chasing that elusive wave. Still very shy and awkward his confusion he must beat, with much more noise than needed he tears his moped up the street. 3: And then he buys a motorbike impressing all the girls, 4: but suddenly he gets called up his country he must serve. 5: After seven months he's out and the GNR he joins, with authority and gun in hand he demands pleasure for his loins. 6: A slap on the wrist, a career called short he returns to the family grove, and starts building up a business of grapes green, red and mauve. 7: Every year more tourists come drinking of his wine, and in this sunny region the social ladder he doth climb. His gorgeous wife once young, fresh-faced and thin, now rolls stockings down to knees and displays a hairy, double chin. 8: But when it's nearly over an old flat cap he dons. You'd pass him in the street skin leathery and bronze. A twinkle in his eye suggests a lifetime's fable, as old, old friends sit drinking port slapping dominoes on the table. [comments] => 3 [counter] => 172 [topic] => 7 [informant] => karl_wiggins [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 4 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => HumorPoetry )
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