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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 02-June 21:08:10 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 45800
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Margarita LXII
[time] => 2004-05-01 22:12:25
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => To leave San Peralta when skies are gray, rounding Cape Horn during late Spring time, for me and sails it seems the only way, since late Spring days can show the perfect clime. " Jose, the hour's late." Don Hernandez looked at his big gold pocket watch. He commented on the time. "Yes, Rose," he nodded his head in agreement. "Time has gotten away from us." He put the gold watch back into his waistcoat pocket. "It's already twelve thirty and we must start early. Senores, why don't we let the ladies retire. We can continue our conversation in the library." Suggestion was more in the way of a command. Captain Thompson rose to stand clear of his chair. Others followed his example. "Thank you for a wonderful dinner, senora," he said. "I can't remember when I've enjoyed myself more. Beef and beans were excellent." Bowing, he spoke to Margarita. "Senorita Hernandez, your roadrunner legend's the most precious thing I've ever heard. Bostonians will love it. "Thank you, Captain," she smiled. "Grabano indians have many legends. I must tell you about Tahquitz sometime." " I'll put added sail on for that,"captain responded. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 153 [topic] => 31 [informant] => ramfire [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => StoryPoetry )
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