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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 19:04:08 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 11701
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => War and Peace
[time] => 2003-01-31 12:30:00
[hometext] => This has appeared at poetry.com as "To the Children of Afghanistan"-a prayer for peace, and the hopes that soemday, "The Land of Cain" will be free of its curse for good.
Originally, it would have been a fantasy poem-this was the second stanza, the first being the description of the fortress ("a mighty edifice, that crumbling warden...") in action, manned by "proud men of the sword"-but forgive me, god knows how I lost it! :-/ [bodytext] => No longer do booted men march here, Their barracks a lair for the creatures of this garden. No longer a mighty edifice, that crumbling warden Now a refuge for game from the missles of the hunter. No longer does it inspire in its rivals fear and terror, That jawbone crown'd with dragons' teeth cutting the horizon No longer do proud men of the sword have here their haven: The only bugles are the horn-calls of Nature. No longer a hill-top monument to War On top of the newly green hill; Are the centuries-old ward and its towers Reflected by the mirrors of the silent shore: Many have left the gates; all is still- And the ruined walls wreathed with flowers. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 270 [topic] => 43 [informant] => Mad-Mancunian [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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