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	<title>Ron Foreman &#187; Favourite Poems</title>
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	<link>http://ronforeman.com</link>
	<description>&#34;The nick of time&#34;</description>
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		<title>James Blunt</title>
		<link>http://ronforeman.com/2006/05/05/james-blunt/</link>
		<comments>http://ronforeman.com/2006/05/05/james-blunt/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 05 May 2006 13:39:51 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Ron Foreman</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Favourite Poems]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.ronforeman.com/?p=272</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[&#8220;No Bravery&#8221; There are children standing here, Arms outstretched into the sky, Tears drying on their face. He has been here. Brothers lie in shallow graves. Fathers lost without a trace. A nation blind to their disgrace, Since he&#8217;s been here. And I see no bravery, No bravery in your eyes anymore. Only sadness. Houses [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p></p><p>&#8220;No Bravery&#8221;</p>
<p>There are children standing here,<br />
Arms outstretched into the sky,<br />
Tears drying on their face.<br />
He has been here.<br />
Brothers lie in shallow graves.<br />
Fathers lost without a trace.<br />
A nation blind to their disgrace,<br />
Since he&#8217;s been here.</p>
<p>And I see no bravery,<br />
No bravery in your eyes anymore.<br />
Only sadness.</p>
<p>Houses burnt beyond repair.<br />
The smell of death is in the air.<br />
A woman weeping in despair says,<br />
He has been here.<br />
Tracer lighting up the sky.<br />
It&#8217;s another families&#8217; turn to die.<br />
A child afraid to even cry out says,<br />
He has been here.</p>
<p>And I see no bravery,<br />
No bravery in your eyes anymore.<br />
Only sadness.</p>
<p>There are children standing here,<br />
Arms outstretched into the sky,<br />
But no one asks the question why,<br />
He has been here.<br />
Old men kneel to accept their fate.<br />
Wives and daughters cut and raped.<br />
A generation drenched in hate.<br />
Says, he has been here.</p>
<p>And I see no bravery,<br />
No bravery in your eyes anymore.<br />
Only sadness.</p>
<p><a href="http://www.jamesblunt.com/">James Blunt</a></p>
<p><a href="http://favouritequotations.ca/">More Quotations</a></p>
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		<title>William Wordsworth</title>
		<link>http://ronforeman.com/2006/03/28/william-wordsworth/</link>
		<comments>http://ronforeman.com/2006/03/28/william-wordsworth/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 28 Mar 2006 19:27:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Ron Foreman</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Favourite Poems]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.ronforeman.com/?p=248</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting: The Soul that rises with us, our life&#8217;s Star, Hath had elsewhere its setting, And cometh from afar: Not in entire forgetfulness, And not in utter nakedness, But trailing clouds of glory do we come From God, who is our home: Heaven lies about us in [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p></p><p>Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:<br />
The Soul that rises with us, our life&#8217;s Star,<br />
Hath had elsewhere its setting,<br />
And cometh from afar:<br />
Not in entire forgetfulness,<br />
And not in utter nakedness,<br />
But trailing clouds of glory do we come<br />
From God, who is our home:<br />
Heaven lies about us in our infancy!<br />
<a href="http://www.bartleby.com/145/">William Wordsworth</a></p>
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		<title>Emily Dickinson</title>
		<link>http://ronforeman.com/2006/03/28/emily-dickinson/</link>
		<comments>http://ronforeman.com/2006/03/28/emily-dickinson/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 28 Mar 2006 19:25:30 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Ron Foreman</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Favourite Poems]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.ronforeman.com/?p=247</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[A train went through a burial gate, A bird broke forth and sang, And trilled, and quivered, and shook his throat Till all the churchyard rang; And then adjusted his little notes, And bowed and sang again. Doubtless, he thought it meet of him To say good-by to men. Emily Dickinson]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p></p><p>A train went through a burial gate,<br />
A bird broke forth and sang,<br />
And trilled, and quivered, and shook his throat<br />
Till all the churchyard rang; </p>
<p>And then adjusted his little notes,<br />
And bowed and sang again.<br />
Doubtless, he thought it meet of him<br />
To say good-by to men.<br />
<a href="http://www.online-literature.com/dickinson/">Emily Dickinson</a></p>
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