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Array ( [sid] => 10875 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => My Writer's Paradise [time] => 2003-01-21 13:00:00 [hometext] => ...ever wondered what you would do without electric, water, heat? ...for weeks on end; unable to leave your mountain home? Cut off from the rest world, with only forest rescue helicopters above asking do you want to leave yet? Would you stick it out? Love it? Hate it? Run to the safety of the city? Cry? Laugh? How about the deer; elk; wild dogs; cats; vultures; or bears? Would you stay and eventually write this? [bodytext] =>






Signatures By
The Tired Lion






I live on a mountain top way up high
used to live in the cities, oh my, oh my,
all my life I longed for this very way of life
where I could dream and write and write,
Each morning brings a beautiful sunrise
the horizens show me the earth and skies,
we live and abide here in a national forest
although sometimes life here gives no rest,
welcome to the nineteenth century; home sweet home.


Birds flying sailing by above in the clouds
storms come, winds blowing, nature's quiet is loud,
magical mists and clouds here touch to the earth
gifts of plenty in mirth, brought to home's hearth.


Trees a virtual jungle, evergreens of forever
pastures now covered in drifts of snowie clever,
carry water from the spring, when the pipes burst
run to the house, it's getting colder, get there first,
Keep the fires lighted, warm your rear in happiness
come in and sit a while and let us fill your glass,
tell us many tales of grand life away from here
I believe we will stay; for to us it is very dear,
welcome to the nineteenth century; home sweet home.

§* *§
*|*








[comments] => 5 [counter] => 163 [topic] => 27 [informant] => ladyfawn [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 25 [ratings] => 5 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => NaturePoetry )
My Writer's Paradise

Contributed by ladyfawn on Tuesday, 21st January 2003 @ 01:00:00 PM in AEST
Topic: NaturePoetry










Signatures By
The Tired Lion






I live on a mountain top way up high
used to live in the cities, oh my, oh my,
all my life I longed for this very way of life
where I could dream and write and write,
Each morning brings a beautiful sunrise
the horizens show me the earth and skies,
we live and abide here in a national forest
although sometimes life here gives no rest,
welcome to the nineteenth century; home sweet home.


Birds flying sailing by above in the clouds
storms come, winds blowing, nature's quiet is loud,
magical mists and clouds here touch to the earth
gifts of plenty in mirth, brought to home's hearth.


Trees a virtual jungle, evergreens of forever
pastures now covered in drifts of snowie clever,
carry water from the spring, when the pipes burst
run to the house, it's getting colder, get there first,
Keep the fires lighted, warm your rear in happiness
come in and sit a while and let us fill your glass,
tell us many tales of grand life away from here
I believe we will stay; for to us it is very dear,
welcome to the nineteenth century; home sweet home.

§* *§
*|*












Copyright © ladyfawn ... [ 2003-01-21 13:00:00]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: My Writer's Paradise (User Rating: 1 )
by wolfflow on Tuesday, 21st January 2003 @ 01:34:50 PM AEST
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and you deserve it - frozen pipes n all


Re: My Writer's Paradise (User Rating: 1 )
by DreamWeaver on Tuesday, 21st January 2003 @ 04:36:16 PM AEST
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Oh how I wish I lived there ... that would be my dream ... you are so lucky ladyfawn.


Re: My Writer's Paradise (User Rating: 1 )
by spooky on Wednesday, 22nd January 2003 @ 05:52:43 PM AEST
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i close my eye;s to things in nature,,I'am there,thats where i write the best,,well written ,,a friend n words,,spooky


Re: My Writer's Paradise (User Rating: 1 )
by Mad-Mancunian on Thursday, 30th January 2003 @ 05:57:08 PM AEST
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Isn't it strange? Despite all the modern conveniences and entertainments man has devised, we-we are still filled with a yearning for simplicity...for the Earth when Saturn, in all his goodness, ruled in the Golden Age.

Now, despite all the modern widgetry we've amassed, it seems that man is slowly regressing from a Silver Age--to an age of Iron, or worse, an age of Bronze!


Re: My Writer's Paradise (User Rating: 1 )
by nikkie on Tuesday, 4th March 2003 @ 07:33:32 PM AEST
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I like how u used nature in this poem and it also shows how u have a warm heart and it shows how u use it also. Great poem!
~nikkie~




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