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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 16:26:32 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 157903
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => A Framed Picture
[time] => 2010-03-04 19:34:35
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => The mountains play their snow on high this day, a white and rugged scene displayed to leave the old town’s silhouetted homes all gray in winter time when light doth fade at eve. The streets are quiet no cars seen to take their drivers places they wish fain to go or people walking, children playing late with rope, stick, bike, hoop, kite, shoe skates or bow. The trees are free of leaves their branches rise up toward a sky of heaping snow clouds nigh and underneath all gray roofs wait the ice for people know it’s time for snow to lie. A winter’s picture framed at eventide, below the mountains people yea abide. [comments] => 0 [counter] => 186 [topic] => 21 [informant] => ramfire [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
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