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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 20:20:11 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 24101
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => The whirlwind
[time] => 2003-09-30 00:25:00
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Whirlwinds A golden orb shines, A fiery, hot glow. A whirlwind rises to play, On the desert below. Skipping here, skipping there, It fells it has no wrath, As it plays with desert sands, Laying in it’s path. It spies an Indian village, It joyfully makes it’s way. The women curse the desert wind, The children scream and play. Tho it could be mighty, Where nothing could possibly stand, And in it’s fore, it pushes, A swirling wall of sand, The children have kept it happy, It stays playful this day, As here and there and everywhere, It happily races away. Hamp [comments] => 2 [counter] => 247 [topic] => 27 [informant] => hamp [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => NaturePoetry )
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