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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 14:57:12 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 4045
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Untitled
[time] => 2002-09-19 21:18:50
[hometext] => I really don't know what to call this. I don't even remember when I wrote this, or why, or for who for that matter.
[bodytext] => The night has troubled the waters tonight,
As above the sleeping heads of men The rage of the moon screams bright And her folds are lit with fire, Her face burns with desire, As she waits for the earth to sleep And calm the dark and deep Waters. The moon will lay her golden path Along the earth’s loneliest sands And the fire and the wrath Will be quenched in the moon’s heart. Muses then will come to play On the moon’s golden reach. Then my friend, you’ll appear As grain on the golden beach. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 158 [topic] => 25 [informant] => Corruptor [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => MiscPoems )
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