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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 01-June 12:32:54 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 124
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Soaring
[time] => 2002-07-11 13:40:42
[hometext] => Beauty comes from within. Besides, not all of us are proud Peacocks.
* note - It is my understanding that peacocks cannot fly very well. [bodytext] => Up high upon a lavish hill a peacocks struts in idleness. While down below the craggy rill the pigeon tries, in wilderness, to fluff her feathers in the wind, and labors to be beautiful. The peacock came to her and grinned and spread his feathers fanciful. "So little art have I," said she with daunting head bowed to and fro. "Tis true, so little art I see, you do not have my fancy glow. You do not have the social grace like me," the peacocks smirked with scorn. "When will you ever learn your place, the station in which you were born?" Then asked, with his bold chesting tease, "why do you soar up through the sky?" At that the pigeon caught the breeze his painful words had made her cry. Now, far above the world she flew her tear drops shinning in the sun. She heard, "To thine own self be true. Know that you are a special one." She soared with pride down by the sea. "I can go anywhere," said she. How arrogant and callous be the peacocks of society. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 294 [topic] => 30 [informant] => ThornMEngla [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => PoemsonBeauty )
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