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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 15:17:48 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 146015
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Flushed
[time] => 2008-10-30 15:16:09
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => In my garden gambol green beetles by twos and threes, who sing to High Tulips blushing pink in harmonies. Flushed, adoration-framed, they rainbow through emotions gained from beetle songs choir sung. I part the foliage clef to observe what enchantment deft musical beetles pant to flowered plants swaying in the green. I am transfixed in this gloaming, where songs stroke the airy night; uplifting tulip bulbs- rhapsodied and honey dewed. On me then euphonies: Beatles sing because we don't, to balm absence's pain. They sing our song of high praise; because we won't, for tulips, gardens, soil and loam. We are the children who've lost the songs which were mother's songs now vague; distant, gone. Our ears deaf now, withdrawn. The beetles stand in for us sing our songs in their metallic greens, arpeggios falling to my journal page explaining why they sing to tulip bulbs, flushed on the green: all quiet now- each bulb reminded- they are loved. [comments] => 3 [counter] => 218 [topic] => 43 [informant] => lnnie [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 10 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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