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Array
(
[sid] => 92024
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Sitting in the dancing fields
[time] => 2005-04-23 19:04:21
[hometext] => Just a nice poem about how people relate to their environment.
[bodytext] => As darkness falls over the fields, they dance. Grain bobs, catching light Like a last encore, in a grand performance. They reach to the sky and sway to earth. With every breeze, a flush of orange, Every move, a bow to the sky The sun recedes to a crimson sky. As the blood takes its place in dance, The clouds turn from orange To eerie light. A foreign red becomes the earth, A new stage is set, for the night performance. Red earth takes the performance, As deer prance, like birds in the sky. With grace, never touching to earth, As if to call others to join their dance, To beckon them to the new beauty of light. They prance with grains of orange. Birds glide, stained red and orange, Dipping to crowds below, a great performance. Catching in their wings, beaded light. As if to drop it, a gift from the sky. As the fields dance, And sway about the earth. A whisper, soft and subtle, to the earth, Lingering like the last of the beads of orange, Seems to fill the air around the dance. As if life itself surrounds them, more than performance. Earth is speaking with the sky. Asking, for the sake of the dance, for light. The fields dance still, with lingering light. Speaking nothing but graceful tones to earth. Calming whispers to the sky. Winds alight in red and orange, Dimming in song and soft performance, Humming to the fields as they slow their dance. Then, the sky loses orange Light softens the performance The earth heaves a sigh, and collapses from dance [comments] => 3 [counter] => 177 [topic] => 27 [informant] => taybaxter [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 11 [ratings] => 3 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => NaturePoetry )
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