Your Poetry Dot Com

Welcome to Your Poetry Dot Com - Read, Rate, Comment on, or Submit Poetry. Browse Poetry Forums, or just enjoy other parts of our poetic community.
One of the largest databases of poetry on the net, now over 198,500+ poems!

Poems On Site: 198,500+ Comments On Poems: 427,000+ Forum Posts: 105,000+

Custom Search


Welcome !	Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link	29-May 21:18:59 AEST

Menu

· Our eBay Store

· Error Submit

Poetry

· Submit Poetry

· Least Read Poems

· Members Listing

· Old Site Post 2001

· Old Site Pre 2001

· Poetry Archive

· Public Domain Poetry

Stories

· Stories (NEW ! )

· Submit Story

· Story Topics

· Stories Archive

· Story Search

Community

· Our Poetry Forums

· Our Arcade
100's of Games !

Site Help

· FAQ

· Feedback

Members Areas

· Your Account

· Members Journals

· Premium Sign-Up

Premium Section

· Special Section

· Premium Poems

· Premium Submit

· Premium Search

· Premium Archive

· Premium Topics

Fun & Games

· Jokes

· Bubble Puzzle

· Cross Word Easy

· Word Hunt

Reference

· Dictionary (Rhyming)

· Site Updates

· Special Content

Search

Top

Help This Site

· Donations

Others

· Moderators

Our Other Sites

· Embroidery Design Store
· Your Jokes
· Special Urls
· JM Embroideries
· Public Domain Poetry and Stories
· Diamond Dotz
· Cooking Info and Recipes
· Quoof - Australian Story

Social

Array ( [sid] => 92847 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => What Were The Fault Were Mine [time] => 2005-04-30 19:36:58 [hometext] => A rhyming soliloquy, in iambic pentameter, spoken by a character of mine in a comedy play I'm writing. The character is Lucio, the Duke of Venezia. [bodytext] => LUC. What were the fault were mine to go and say
'Good people, gentles care you hither stay?'
What were the fault were mine to go outside
Then in ecstasy open my arms wide
And tell the world wherever I was hid.
Or as goodnight a prayer I would them bid.
What were the fault were mine to be so kind
The spirit of the bootless type of mind,
Ideas of no sort would be beteeming
A wounded bird of prey to be then seeming.
What were the fault were mine to be so dumb
To speak no more or less mine lips be numb,
To utter no secret to anyone
(An thou wert to go speak to everyone.)
Art thou not a buxom blunt of mine own?
A nuance of some larger picture blown?
Cannot thou give an aim of my affection?
May be for the immaculate confection?
The gayest festivity of our time
With a cake and a little hint of lime.
O, how happy I will ever be alive
But only if I had the means to survive.
I never understood the world one bit
Can we not take chance what to make of it?
(Only if our hearts be intertwinèd.)
In hopes that all my dreams will come to last
And should I choose, what day start I to fast?
(Unless, of course, I choose to never show.)
But hearken, I hear footsteps, I now go.
[Exit] [comments] => 0 [counter] => 178 [topic] => 43 [informant] => Cupid [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )

What Were The Fault Were Mine

Contributed by Cupid on Saturday, 30th April 2005 @ 07:36:58 PM in AEST
Topic: oops

LUC. What were the fault were mine to go and say
'Good people, gentles care you hither stay?'
What were the fault were mine to go outside
Then in ecstasy open my arms wide
And tell the world wherever I was hid.
Or as goodnight a prayer I would them bid.
What were the fault were mine to be so kind
The spirit of the bootless type of mind,
Ideas of no sort would be beteeming
A wounded bird of prey to be then seeming.
What were the fault were mine to be so dumb
To speak no more or less mine lips be numb,
To utter no secret to anyone
(An thou wert to go speak to everyone.)
Art thou not a buxom blunt of mine own?
A nuance of some larger picture blown?
Cannot thou give an aim of my affection?
May be for the immaculate confection?
The gayest festivity of our time
With a cake and a little hint of lime.
O, how happy I will ever be alive
But only if I had the means to survive.
I never understood the world one bit
Can we not take chance what to make of it?
(Only if our hearts be intertwinèd.)
In hopes that all my dreams will come to last
And should I choose, what day start I to fast?
(Unless, of course, I choose to never show.)
But hearken, I hear footsteps, I now go.
[Exit]

Copyright Â© Cupid ... [ 2005-04-30 19:36:58]
(Date/Time posted on site)

Advertisments:

Previous Posted Poem | | Next Posted Poem

Sorry, comments are no longer allowed for anonymous, please register for a free membership to access this feature and more

All comments are owned by the poster. Your Poetry Dot Com is not responsible for the content of any comment.
That said, if you find an offensive comment, please contact via the FeedBack Form with details, including poem title etc.

While every care is taken to ensure the general sites content is family safe, our moderators cannot be in all places; all the time. Please report poetry and or comments that are in breach of our site rules HERE (Please include poem title or url). Parents also please ensure that you supervise your children well when they are on the internet; regardless of what a site says about being, or being considered, child-safe.

Poetry is much like a great photo, a single "moment in time" capturing many feelings and emotions. Yet, they are very alive; creating stirrings within the readers who form visual "pictures" of the expressed emotions within the Poem. Â©

Opinions expressed in the poetry, comments, forums etc. on this site are not necessarily those of this site, its owners and/or operators; but of the individuals who post items to this site.
Frequently Asked Questions | | | Privacy Policy | | | Contact Webmaster

All submitted items are Copyright Â© to their submitter. All the rest Copyright Â© 2002-2050 by Your Poetry Dot Com

All logos and trademarks in this site are property of their respective owners.

Script Generation Time: 0.052 Seconds. - View our Site Map | .© your-poetry.com