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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 02-June 20:22:31 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 150336
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Through the Grass
[time] => 2009-05-31 20:49:37
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Romantic, dogged, he sweetens his way through the grass, stroking it with a soft paw. Pusillanimous crickets dive out of his way, though he too, timorous, sways a little to the right and left so as not to scare them, fell what must be their sleek, bending timbers. Amongst the blades, he might find himself afraid of their artifice, wing-pleat-- yet sense that his nose could almost act their bane, a jolt of moisture that is no oasis on its black seeming stone. But what is that nose--when the tongue could solder mosquitoes, if he paused at a puddle?--and if termites found his golden tresses an indolent house of wood? [comments] => 2 [counter] => 194 [topic] => 27 [informant] => screwge [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => NaturePoetry )
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