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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 01-June 12:21:09 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 158917
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Whence They Come
[time] => 2010-04-14 07:30:17
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Whence they come. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- They the 'friends' come and with countenance appropriately grave they express their sympathies. They hover and sigh, sign the book, shake their collective heads and touch your shoulder. They recall the 'goodness' of the departed, how she worked with charities, gave of her self, attended church functions, baked for the fund raisers and how she "tended her family." How she "so regularly" attended services. Over again are the references made to her green thumb, the cuttings she shared, her visits to hospitalized acquaintances, her calls to those bed ridden. A "good woman" it is said. "Sad" it is said. Sad, how sad. Where then were the hosts of grievers since her partner died. Where were they over those intervening years of loneliness? Was there an invitation proffered for a shared dinner perhaps? A drop by cup of tea and a biscuit? A hand full of flowers? A phone call perchance? Maybe a piece of cake or pie dropped off. Something? Anything from time to time? No? Yes, it's sad. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 202 [topic] => 39 [informant] => pooper [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 4 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Grief )
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