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Array
(
[sid] => 159357
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => In Memory of Clouds
[time] => 2010-04-29 15:39:48
[hometext] => I think we're all to busy to look at the clouds, with the shapes and dreams they brought to us in our youth. Such a pity
[bodytext] => As a youth I would lay with my back to the ground my face to the heavens, and my eyes to the clouds Some are a wisp, as from an artists light brush they seem oh so high, no human can touch Some move so swiftly, seems somewhere to go they rush or' the heavens, they move to and fro Some gray and so heavy, and rain they will bring the rain clouds are needed, to nourish all things But the ones i loved best were like cotton and free they'd flow and they'd cluster, new shapes yet to be There's Abraham Lincoln, there's a ship with it's sails there's Mickey and Donald ..... a long string of pearls They appear soft and fluffy, as a fine feather bed if I could fly up there, to just once rest my head Now I am grown and the clouds not so rare I don't even notice that they are still there So I look to the heavens, old friends hoping to see will I remember them, will they recognize me Old age has a bad habit,..... to lose sight of simple things the sun on you face, the wind in you hair,.......... the joy that these all bring Looking back to my youth, back so many days, one memory if I could buy my back to the ground, my face to the heavens and a cloud to fill my eye [comments] => 2 [counter] => 161 [topic] => 21 [informant] => unknownlegend [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
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