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Array
(
[sid] => 97012
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => My first bride
[time] => 2005-06-06 02:26:00
[hometext] => This is a dramatic monologue where the author speaks for himself and the reader has to draw his own conclusions regards characters in the monologue.
[bodytext] => There`s my bride`s photo painted on the wall Looking as if she is in real, I made a call These poems a wonder, now: written by girish`s hands Browsing them busily for a day and there she stands For calling her up that spot of joy, she had A heart – how to say? – too soon made glad Too easily impressed; - she liked the poems whatever On those pages, her look went everywhere She rode with round the cabin – all and each Would draw from her alike, the praising speech She thanked people around – good! She really thanked Here I know not – the poem how she had ranked? If that would exceed the mark? and if she let Herself be lessoned so, nor plainly set Never to stoop, Oh sir! She smiled, no doubt; Whenever I passed her but who passed without As if she`s real, will`t please you rise? We`ll meet The company below, then I repeat At starting is my object. Nay we`ll go Together down sir, notice Neptune though Taming a sea-horse, thought a rarity Which sculptor has cast that in bronze for me? [comments] => 1 [counter] => 158 [topic] => 51 [informant] => girish [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Event )
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