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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 18:07:29 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 17670
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => Cabin Boy
[time] => 2003-05-16 18:35:00
[hometext] => Pieces of six (in the morning)
[bodytext] => The captain called out for the guns to fire,
But their aim left much to be desired, And although the amount of fire was hot, By the splashing water, target was hit not. Young Mike, aged no more than ten, The cabin boy wished he were home just then, As the captain stood scratching his pate, The errant gunfire failed to abate. Some to the left, some to the right, Yet none at all were close in the fight, But clever Mike, as Captain called crew asses, Went below to fetch the old man’s glasses. With better sight and now guns aligned, Captain was aware, enemy were behind, A clever move and the pirate Peter Punk, Was hit several times and eventually sunk. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 212 [topic] => 7 [informant] => jonteD [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => HumorPoetry )
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