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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 12:50:25 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 91000
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Legacy
[time] => 2005-04-14 21:34:18
[hometext] => Something written for my grandmother.
[bodytext] => She'd take an apple from her favorite tree. Unwashed, she'd bite into the barely ripe fruit. The juice would dribble from her wrinkled chin. .And she'd tell me a story about an old romance. Once she led me through the knee high bean poles Past the golden squash and gleaming bell peppers. Beyond the gardens I loved to walk. Into the secret place, she kept for herself. To that special place she tended with such care. To a single rose vine that crawled on the stone . She'd lovingly caress the buds with a gnarled hand. And explain how this was his gift long ago. I closed my eyes, and followed her back. Back to dusty front porches and freshly churned butter. She'd paint his face, that mysterious youth. And I'd fall in love with him as deeply as she. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 150 [topic] => 2 [informant] => Destinysplea [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 10 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => LovePoetry )
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