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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 22:04:08 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 177471
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Finale
[time] => 2013-12-30 09:22:10
[hometext] => raise your glasses and cross your fingers...
[bodytext] => the new month is the last month, the fragile month of the year; the one that whispers quietly that her time is almost near. where are all those days and nights? took to soil or took to flight; the children of the year’s forays —gone the ways of nights and days. eleven siblings, now the last, each in turn, lived and passed till only one remains; to honour the parent year and see it accorded fond farewells with sadness but good cheer the memories of year’s delight, to celebrate this last good night. [comments] => 3 [counter] => 198 [topic] => 51 [informant] => spike [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Event )
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