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Array
(
[sid] => 179058
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The One Hundredth Bouquet.
[time] => 2014-08-11 23:58:46
[hometext] => A tale of late bloomers.
[bodytext] => Bouquet on the table, the tender shoots bloom; colors and fragrance shatter the room. A gift of adornment; love in a vase; A promise, a thank you, set shyly in place. Years grown from days, days grown from hours; Time spent together; rendered in flowers. A petal to mark every road that has seen us; each has its say in the silence between us. I understand the words in your gaze; You absentmindedly finish my phrase. A day at a time distilled and defined; Habits to patterns, hands intertwined. Laughing at stories we tell yet again; songs just for two; remembering when. Time tiptoes past us; evening is nigh; Old dog rolls over; heaving a sigh. His muzzle is grey, his old bones are sore; And we are so like him on many a score. Loving his routine; taking long naps; Deaf to the mailman; ignoring the cats. A four-legged tribute to our younger ways; We were all puppies back in the day! Walking through life on big clumsy feet; Wagging our tails at all we would meet. Never content to languish about; restless and eager, and absent of doubt! Now we share joys our youth once denied; puzzles, and poetry, and fire in the sky. Content to just be here, with nowhere to go. Grey in the muzzle; hearts in a bow. With blooms for a lifetime; fragrant and tart; Tucked with a card in the folds of our hearts. [comments] => 7 [counter] => 213 [topic] => 23 [informant] => softerware [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => FamilyPoems )
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