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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 18:05:32 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 22835
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => Flight
[time] => 2003-09-06 15:05:00
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => 'Plane, take me by coach sky high - reach cold space. Race Sol's bright light beams westbound - beat night's shade. Make brain's mind glow like flambeau shines my face, fly me high so I might know globe's great grace. Green trees, gray slopes, wide plains, deep lakes we trace, These wholesale sights show wide view - they don't jade. We see white fleece shade piles while haze veils brace: Wheel ways, phone lines - those laid by roadwrights made. [comments] => 0 [counter] => 148 [topic] => 21 [informant] => ramfire [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
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