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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 19:02:30 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 98991
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Your Aura
[time] => 2005-06-22 16:55:10
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => It is not something you see But rather, something you feel Like goosebumps On a warm, humid Summer day Or maybe something you hear Like windchimes In the dead of winter On a cold, crisp And eerily calm Windless evening It is the nostalgia Of running through a field The freedom of a child And the possibility Of fields to come It is what causes magnets To drift, pull, dance And come together Without actually touching Straight on It is why I return Day after day Night after night To feel the chill To hear the ringing And to think of time's games It is why I will return In years to come When the present is the past And what we once were Is a distant memory But that one part of you What draws me What awes me Will remain forever And the fields of childhood Will live in your eyes Always [comments] => 0 [counter] => 147 [topic] => 52 [informant] => youlied [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => goodbyepoetry )
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