Discussion in 'The Whiners' started by acetonephish, May 22, 2004.

  1. acetonephish

    acetonephish lickage

    Now folds the Tree of Day its perfect flowers,
    And every bloom becomes a bud again,
    Shut and sealed up against the golden showers
    Of bees that hover in the velvet hours....
    Now a strain
    Wild and mournful blown from shadow towers,
    Echoed from shadow ships upon the foam,
    Proclaims the Queen of Night.
    From their bowers
    The dark Princess fluttering, wing their flight
    To their old Mother, in her huge old home.
  2. Orsino

    Orsino Member

  3. kier

    kier I R Baboon

    that's a bit mean

    i thought it was quite a good poem :)
  4. that reminds me of these flowers my mum had in the pots on the patio last year which closed up when the sun wasnt shining on them. and when the sun was on them they were beautiful pink and quite big compared to whe tehy were closed.
  5. Orsino

    Orsino Member

    lol.. that was an inside joke between us :D
  6. thepixies

    thepixies Member

    damn you george *slap*

    it was very good i like the part about the bees
  7. Orsino

    Orsino Member

    lol... ummm... as I said, that was an inside joke between us.

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