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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 12-June 07:15:32 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 71735
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => This pat of clay
[time] => 2004-11-16 09:18:16
[hometext] => Yada.......///
[bodytext] => A pat of warm clay, resting in my hand, Shapeless, yet open to manipulation by me, On my own two feet do I firmly stand, As I alter its appearance according to whatever I see I dare not press too hard, Lest the cream should ooze through, But, its contents I must safe guard, While its figure I renew Oh! Clay, pray! Dry not, for the sun shall go down, The cool of the night will appear, But who am I to decide? Its life years be unknown, Someday it shall wither and all will be clear [comments] => 2 [counter] => 151 [topic] => 21 [informant] => Mihiri [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
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