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Array
(
[sid] => 4801
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => A World For The Taking
[time] => 2002-10-09 07:20:00
[hometext] => A first stab at something like this...
[bodytext] => Tall Elves, full of grace, slip silently through the trees,
Armed with bows and arrows, in cloaks of brown and green, To the music of the lilting pipes, they sing and dance with glee, For the entertainment of their forest King, and the joys of living free. While Dwarven craftsmen, sweating, labor at the forge, Deep within their halls of mountain stone. From mithril, creating armor, axes, jewelry, and swords, Which they will gladly trade away for a tidy sum of gold. With a mighty roar, on leathered wings, he takes to the skies, Soaring on the cool night breeze, comes the scent of prey, Diving down with claw, and fang, and fiery breath, the horse and rider quickly die, For he is Dragon, and most feared throughout the night and day. From towers tall come mages, reeking of brimstone, Masters of the staff and wand, spending hours deep in study, To glean a bit of knowledge, thought lost, from some ancient, dusty tome, In robes, with pouches full of icky things, they craft their sorcery. Goblins, orcs and things more foul, creep across the land, From somewhere in a sea of mist, comes the battle cry, to arms lads be stout of heart, Answering the trumpet's call, ride forth armored Men to make a stand, With swords in hand and looking grim, they protect their homes and hearths. Once I thought no place like this existed throughout all of creation, No place could be so filled with fantasy, or creatures strange and wild, I have seen it now, so I know it's there, if only in my imagination, Brought to life through the dreaming murmurs of a sleeping child. October 08/2002 [comments] => 1 [counter] => 184 [topic] => 40 [informant] => Killer [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 15 [ratings] => 3 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => fantasy )
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