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Array
(
[sid] => 160393
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Memory Making
[time] => 2010-06-06 09:53:12
[hometext] => we have just returned from a camping trip to the gower peninsula. the wildness of this place is breath taking. this is about a glorious evening walk.
[bodytext] => This evening we are making memories, you and I. Along this path that meanders lazily through fields of sprouting potatoes Under the wide brimmed hat of sky that colludes with sea some half a mile away. We pause by a canopy of drunken hawthorns and you sigh with content, And I thank the sun for its full and frank appraisal of the situation. We enter a field stained yellow and pock marked by the lethal teeth of a silage cutter, Over a stile and then another until we enter an amphitheatre of stony silence. Encased on both sides by towering cliffs with rocky chins that thrust out into no man's land, The area between sky and sea where the sea birds turn summersaults in the salty air. Over fallen rocks until we come to a small cove, shrouded in mystery, The keeper of secrets, and the boom of the ocean, a rhythmic rhyme of ancient times. You click and click with your camera, each scene captured in this digital age of casual perfection, And each frame is frozen on the retina of my mind. We scramble up the white veined cliff along a path of feathery gorse, All around the grazing sheep. We get to the top and stand in a trance at the world's edge. Here in this lonely place with the rising song of the wind, The cry of gulls, the angry crash of white foamed waves on the rocks below, We are brought together for just this purpose, to make memories. And memories we have made this evening, you and I. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 106 [topic] => 27 [informant] => cashfan1 [notes] => Corrected spelling as requested ~ Moderator_18 June 6, 2010 [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 0 [associated] => [topicname] => NaturePoetry )
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