To tell you the truth; I get my Mum to help me with the long words.
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Cheers alf. I thought Stefs' poem was fantastic. Oh and i am sorry you did not get thru on the K-factor again.
She loves me.
She loves me,
She loves me,
The sky is blue,
Birds sing and flowers bloom,
And all the cliches,
That love brings,
She loves me.
By Herakles.
GASOLINE
Shivering in the almost-drizzle
inside the wooden outboard,
nose over gunwale,
I watched it drip and spread
on the sheenless water:
the brightest thing in wartime,
a slick of rainbow,
ephemeral as insect wings,
green, blue, red, and pink,
my shimmering private sideshow.
Was this my best toy, then?
This toxic smudge, this overspill
from a sloppy gascan filled
with essence of danger?
I knew that it was poison,
its beauty an illusion:
I could spell flammable.
But still, I loved the smell:
so alien, a whiff
of starstuff.
I would have liked to drink it,
inhale its iridescence.
As if I could.
That's how gods lived: as if.
Margaret Atwood