SUBJECT>thanks all POSTER>slosh EMAIL> DATE>1109035881 IP_ADDRESS>203-59-155-52.dyn.iinet.net.au PASSWORD>aajt.4s3e3SZA PREVIOUS>83661 NEXT> IMAGE> LINKNAME> LINKURL>

I spotted the odd spots and typos after I posted, (without a password)
yes I know my rhythm is often times hard to jump into, I just hate a regular beat -- fixed now I hope.

and
Remember-- the art of dancing with two left feet
is to bring them both to the ball.

Who Knows From Wherever

There’s somehow in my mind a game
seen on canvas grained. And plain
a boy wild eyed, his mouth an ark
he legs a canter, background-- not dark
but more severe odd shades in gray.

Over cobbles, past closed doors
laced up windows busy stores
bustling commerce in the street
he in and out, old dickens feet
--on and on he roars.

Toward me, from the past expanse
he whips a hoop, a merry dance.
Old barrel maker gives a chase
determined look on ruddy face
he knows he’ll lose the race.

There’s somehow in my mind a child
Wanton, willful, old world wild.

Who Knows From Wherever?

There’s somehow in my mind a game!
seen on canvas grained! And plain a boy
wild eyed, his mouth an ark, he legs a canter
background-- not dark but more severe
odd shades in gray. Over cobbles, past closed doors
laced up windows busy stores, bustling commerce
in the street, he in and out, old dickens feet
--on and on he roars.

Toward me, from the past expanse he whips
a hoop, a merry dance. Old barrel maker
gives a chase, determined look on ruddy face
he knows he’ll lose the race.

There’s somehow in my mind a child
Wanton, willful, old world wild.