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Array
(
[sid] => 3717
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Fariha
[time] => 2002-09-11 19:53:31
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => "Yes, She'll understand", Whispered the angel in my ear
"Just be not overly grand, lest the balance you may smear" And thus I fared on, to pen an ode befitting her I sprinkled and saw them drawn: My word! She drew a stir! (Frankincense in the air, a bouquet of irises in hand, the balcony moonlit, could else be this grand? I pored closer, only to be invariably drawn; into her eyes; twas a sketch of pre-morn) There's many parts playful madness, And a slight tinge of arrogance One-part enigma and two parts tease Leave if you must… Stay if you please! Eager to shame the devil any day You whisper dare; she cries "let's play" Tell all sin; tell too many, Treason Consent must have, a rhyme or reason (There's a bit of tango, out in the rain, And a long, quiet walk, by the shore, A nagging desire; Naught be in vain & A Ceaseless hunt; for the wherefore) Each revelation, deepening the mystery How longing eclipses, scathes… this esprit While yearning a soul; free of lust All she's gathered, is ashes and dust I looked unto her and could only smile My only solace; "Not many walk this mile" (The angel's caution forbid me, Else I'd inscribe the whole epic, With my words flowing free, Could I add her voice, to this lyric? I shall forever curse my hap… Yet, there had to be an end to this novelette) [comments] => 2 [counter] => 210 [topic] => 43 [informant] => ScarZ [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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