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Pastimes : Calling all SI Poets -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: AugustWest who wrote (1426)	3/28/1998 8:06:00 AM
From: Stitch	Read Replies (2) \| Respond to of 2095

August, That poem was a like a trip down memory lane for me. It reminded me of the entertaining poems I read as a kid. Did you write it? Best, Stitch

To: AugustWest who wrote (1426)	3/28/1998 9:42:00 AM
From: Susan Saline	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 2095

Song 4 Non Blondes Bigger, Better, Faster, More What's Up Twenty-five years and my life is still Trying to get up that great big hill of hope For a destination And I realized quickly when I knew I should That the world was made up of this brotherhood of man For whatever that means And so I cry sometimes When I'm lying in bed Just to get it all out What's in my head And I am feeling a little peculiar And so I wake in the morning And I step outside And I take a deep breath and I get real high And I scream at the top of my lungs What's going on? And I say, hey hey hey hey I said hey, what's going on? ooh, ooh ooh and I try, oh my god do I try I try all the time, in this institution And I pray, oh my god do I pray I pray every single day For a revolution And so I cry sometimes When I'm lying in bed Just to get it all out What's in my head And I am feeling a little peculiar And so I wake in the morning And I step outside And I take a deep breath and I get real high And I scream at the top of my lungs What's going on? And I say, hey hey hey hey I said hey, what's going on? Twenty-five years and my life is still Trying to get up that great big hill of hope For a destination

To: AugustWest who wrote (1426)	3/31/1998 10:57:00 AM
From: lorrie coey	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 2095

Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy; Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face, And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace: Even so my sun one early morn did shine With all triumphant splendor on my brow; But out, alack! he was but one hour mine; The region cloud hath mask'd him from me now. Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth; Suns of the world may stain when heaven's sun staineth. sonnet33