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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 13:44:34 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 161490
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Army Captain.
[time] => 2010-07-30 05:11:50
[hometext] => A poem about an old retired army captain I used to know.
[bodytext] => The army captain, a solitary reminder of a bygone age, Lived above the shop. Long retired, he wore his habbits in a union flag That hanged on his bedroom wall. Six foot four, straight backed and swagger swelled, He wore the armour of disipline well. His battle weary face tolerated no familiarity, An Ulsterman, not Irish, he would proclaim In a voice that could slice through steel. Each morning I snapped to attention as he entered the shop. A daily newswpaper and an ounce of shag, Bemoaned the ever fragile backbone of the day's youth, Swallowed his tolerence of society with acid bile. Then he marched from the shop, newspaper under his arm, Like a parade ground batton. And there he sat on a chair to inspect the passing rabble. And for an hour he watched and waited for new battles to fight, For natives to tame, and any challenge to his authority. Then he rose and tucked the paper under his arm, Nodded at a passer by, a small concession to the present. Turned back to his flat, wearing a sneer like a smile, Tutted at the undisiplined rabble, a rabble tolerated But never accepted in his world of barrack room barking. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 181 [topic] => 21 [informant] => cashfan1 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 0 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
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