Thanks. Glad you like it.

Oh dark angel always knows exactly what to say - he never ceases to amaze me! I suppose by ur definition this could either be or not be a poem since although it is "imaginative" and i guess there are metaphors, there is no rhyme to be seen, this is hardly in verse which would make it prose, im not sure of the beauty of the language or the experiance of which you are describing. Therefore i think its completely justified that i questioned the fact of it being a poem. Good day! x

How about pi? Try maths. Or then again... Weebl is The Man.

Ouch. Being betrayed by friends is the harshest thing in the world. If I was a knowledgeable person I might be able to offer some advice, but it isn't my business either.

They aren't pretending that it isn't blocked any more-I asked them and apparantely it's because people were using it for 'inappropriate material', or words to that effect. BOBJIM!!! (Love the poem by the way!)

(And Caducus')

I love you P&K, and it's nice to see that I'm appreciated too! I do indeed agree that my poems are cliched and contain simple rhyme and crap. Yet again I must agree with you about Blade, but sadly (happily?) I don't think it's likely that he'll be logging in again. Please let me know your definition of 'Brit popper', it's bothered me for soooooo long! Have a nice day now. (But please if you're going to slag me off, get my name right!!!)

I didn't realise that you're a mathematical genius as well, DA! You continually astound me. Don't worry about Dark Angel, Danny, he means no harm (I think...) I assume (back onto the poem now, and also assuming that the author is indeed 9) that the first line "Leaves." is just the title of the poem? Don't worry about including it. The rhythm for this poem is near impeccable and I like the way it moves. However I suggest that you need to link it together a bit more-right now it is the rawest form of the basic ideas for the poem (I'm not sure how much sense I made there, but hey). Be more adventurous in your description, try to make me feel the breeze and the sunshine, make me hear the leaves. How about this for an edit. Leaves dancing in the autumn breeze Playing inbetween the trees I laugh and watch them tumble down Down, down On a carousel around they go Swirling like a storm of snow Not a sound is there for me to hear But the wind so calmingly near So blow wind, blow Trickle through my covered toes Until I freeze (like that line) Until I feel the sunshine glowing on my leaves The last line really has to be changed anyway, since the sunshine doesn't blow. I also think this is told from the point of view of the tree. Am I right or wrong? Again, a nifty effort-keep it up dewd!

Words have no way less gaye.

PLAH!