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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 20:38:05 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 142704
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => THE TALE
[time] => 2008-05-27 13:31:40
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => The writer sat down at his table Pulled back his quill from the well Took out blank sheets of parchment Began his great tale to tell We rode into port on high tide The most scurrilous port on the coast We were dying for one jug of rum And which of us could drink the most At the far end of one dank street We found what we searched for Ladies and pirates fighting and loving On tables, bar and the floor A bountiful Lady standing alone Asked me to buy her a slug I pulled up a semi-clean glass And poured her out one from my jug A pirate who had passed out on the floor Woke up to find her not there He saw she had her arms around me And was running her hands through my hair He reached for his sword on a chair I kicked him hard square in the groin He buckled and tumbled to the floor Screaming insults and holding his loin We made our retreat out the door While many were milling about Back to the safe arms of our ship And away by the quickest way out [comments] => 1 [counter] => 148 [topic] => 40 [informant] => jsringo [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => fantasy )
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