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Array
(
[sid] => 30392
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => All The World's a Stage
[time] => 2003-12-30 01:30:31
[hometext] => Whimsey, philosophical
[bodytext] => All The World's A Stage II All the world's a stage- Is what Sir William said, I guess that every actor Approaches it with dread. The poet like the actor- To audience does play.. Will they applaud his efforts? Or will they say him, "Nay!"? To touch the hearts of fickle fans- Takes more than merely skill. For one must play to moods you know? And vagaries of will. For what, one time, will draw applause The next time gets a yawn- Oh, what to do? Oh, what to say? Dilemma lingers on. Dost seem that one could specialize In love, or ode, or prose- Describe the grace of yonder maid- The smell of yonder rose... Perhaps I'd best be versatile- Like artiste with a brush- Instead of merely being me- 'Tis better if I'm us. Sometime my heart is far afield- In foreign land and clime- Perusing long dead warriors tales In far and distant time. At other times I woo some lass- In shady, summer bower- And toast her beauty with my words Bestow upon her flowers. And yet at other times you know My thoughts go drifting back- Mistakes I've made, friends I've known Along life's weary track. Ah, what to write? a question that- And who can really say? For what might hit the spot tonight- The morning finds blase'. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 194 [topic] => 7 [informant] => Gunslinger [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => HumorPoetry )
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