Surprise attack
The enemy can be easily way laid in night
When they are relaxing after the fierce fight?
They won’t have slight inkling about surprise move
They may not have slight chance for superiority to prove
The olden battles waged by kings provide sufficient skill
How the war can be won and force the enemy to flee or killed?
How best the weaknesses can be exploited to full advantage?
And the best and powerful armies of the world can be managed
The ground is surveyed before the start of war
The enemy supply lines are too probed very far
The cut of supply route can bring any army to knee
They may loose the clear advantage of fighting free
The rulers never wanted any competion
They were guided by the superstitions
No one should challenge their authority
They must have complete superiority
The kings were sole authority in the field
They had lots of influence and enormous power to yield
They were benevolent and provided good shield
They had high standing in public eye and respect too held
The war norms were observed and not violated
At down it was bringing all the hostilities to an end
The armies would retire to tents and prepare for next day
Still the foul games were never ruled out in any way
I have vivid remembrance of one such incident
The army was annihilated and defeat was evident
The retired generals thought to make surprise attack
They had nothing to loose but everything at stake
As they entered retiring tents in barracks
They found it opportune for surprise attack
They moved at ease and killed many generals
The little carelessness proved fatal for veterans
It is known reaction with the advent of next sun rise
The whole filed will be witnessed by sudden demise
Lot many able generals might have lost their life
It was not moral war but worn torn strife
The time has changed but not the tactics
The time and against it has been proved by statistics
The powerful armies are routed by small army
The theories and proofs are provided by many
Who ever strikes first can with the half war?
Enemy may not be able to go and cut very far
It will be seen as their graveyard or coffin
They have to flee the ground instead witnessing the win
* The surprise attack is powerful weapon in any war”
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Related quotes
One, two, three
One, two, three
“Charge one, two three and back”
“Shot a long cry at enemy, jump and crack”
I remembered those harsh words from instructor
He was demonstrating how enemy can be frightened in the war
We were taught lessons in combat zone
What is to be done while fighting alone
Jump out from trench and charge the enemy with long shout
Psychological treatment for surrender even with body so stout
I remembered those golden words in case of no ammunition
No possibility of getting it without further communication
Sudden appearance before enemy like ghost
Make him to flee as if everything was over and lost
I find such things useful in civil environment too
First attack in any field is taken as bold move through
Adversary may be caught in dilemma with total surprise
It will be turning point in your life with sun rise
Discipline of highest order is welcome in any field
Ground is firmly understood in all weather and held
You are not taken off the ground with any surprise element
This grants you double advantage with bold movement
I developed sense of some futility in reckless killing
The argument was “you in the field not as willing”
It is sacred trust and that must be maintained at anytime
“Kill or get killed” is the only option sometimes
In peace time you are like friends
You move in peaceful manner with clear trend
The moment hostility is resumed
The role is changed and differently assumed
The armies face each other in different manner
They know it is not going to end sooner
Yet it is demand of the time and urgency
Soldier has to stand alert in the entire emergency
It is holy task entrusted to sons of soil
It sends magnetic waves and blood boil
Hands are gripped to offer life for protection of motherland
We don’t see at that time who is foe and who is friend
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Formidable Weapon
Provocation is formidable weapon
It can be successfully launched upon
No launching pad or any sight is required
The missile can be successfully fired
It is simple form of practical art
It may not stop once find good start
One may have to break the silence
No escape is possible with even slight chance
How long enemy can hide in den?
He has to come on surface to take the air even
Whatever powerful plan he may have in armory?
This may cause him concern and worry
Silence can be easily broken
If some Volvo is used as token
That may unseat the person concerned
He may come out in open to be easily cornered
It may cause little irritation
Enemy campus may fear thaw in relation
This is diplomatic step and raises no questions
Strong and mighty rule with clear imposition
Deep waters can be disturbed
Opponent can be easily provoked and perturbed
The course becomes easy like ripe fruit
Pick from the tree and squeeze as it suits
Not a dropp of blood will be shed
Still the attack may be successfully led
The reversal can be easily noticed
The defeat for enemy ensured as boosted or promised
Easy excitement can mentally imbalance
Enemy is not provided ample time or chance
He may come out of his hiding place
Strike aimlessly and loose the face
This was followed in ancient time
It is repeated even in modern times
So many nations are drawn in wordy duals
Same is applicable with persons or individuals
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Two Armies
Once over the ocean in distant lands,
In an age long past, were two hostile bands-
Two armies of men, both brave, both strong,
And their hearts beat high as they marched along
To fight the battle of right and wrong.
Never, I think, did the Eye of heaven
Look down on two armies so nearly even
In well-trained soldiers, in strength and might.
But one was the
Wrong
, and one was the
Right
,
And the last was the stronger in heaven's sight.
And these hostile armies drew near, one night,
And pitched their tents on two hill-sides green,
With only the brow of a hill between.
With the first red beams of the morning light
Both knew would open the awful fight,
And one of the armies lay hushed and still,
And slept in the tents on the green side-hill.
Heart beat with heart: and they all were as one
In the thought of the battle to be begun
With the first bright glance of the morning sun.
Their aim was ignoble, their cause was wrong,
But they were
united
, and so they were strong.
Not so the army just over the hill:
While the ranks of the foe were hushed and still,
The ranks of the
Right
were torn with strife,
And with noise and confusion the air was rife.
Disputes and quarrels, dissensions and jars,
And the sound of fighting, and civil wars;
And, ere the morning, brother and brother,
Instead of the enemy, fought with each other.
Over the hill, the foe, in glee,
Listened and laughed. 'Ho ho!' quoth he.
'There is strife in the enemy's ranks, I see,
And the bright red beams of the rising sun
Will see a victory easily won.
It matters little how strong the foe,
This is a truth we all do know:
There is no success without unity,
However noble the cause may be.
The day is ours before it's begun.
Ho! for the triumph so easily won.'
And on the morrow, the ranks of the Right
Were routed and beaten, and put to flight,
And the Wrong was the victor, and gained the fight.
There are two armies abroad to-day,
As in the age that has passed away.
The makers, and venders, and patrons, and all
Who aid in the traffic of Alcohol,
These are the warriors, bold and strong,
Who swell the ranks of the army of Wrong.
And we are the soldiers, true and brave,
Who are striving with heart and hand to save
The youths of our land from the deep, dark grave
That the foe is digging by day and by night.
Only
one thing
can defeat the Right.
There is nothing but triumph for us, unless
Dissension
, that crafty foe to success,
Creeps into our ranks. Oh! let us
unite
!
Let heart beat with heart as we enter the fight;
Let the whole mighty army be
one
for the time,
And sweep on the foe in a column sublime
In its unity, earnestness, oneness, and might,
Till the foe stands aghast at the wonderful sight,
Till the enemy cowers and shivers, afraid
Of the awful approach of the grand cavalcade.
Close up the ranks, brothers! sisters, draw near,
We are fighting one fight, we are all kinsmen here.
Closer, still closer! in nearness lies might.
Love is our watchword-on to the fight!
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Right in Front of the Army
"Where 'ave you been this week or more,
'Aven't seen you about the war'?
Thought perhaps you was at the rear
Guarding the waggons." "What, us? No fear!
Where have we been? Why, bless my heart,
Where have we been since the bloomin' start?
Right in the front of the army,
Battling day and night!
Right in the front of the army
Teaching 'em how to fight!"
Every separate man you see,
Sapper, gunner, and C.I.V.,
Every one of 'em seems to be
Right in front of the army!
Most of the troops to the camp had gone,
When we met with a cow-gun toiling on;
And we said to the boys, as they walked her past,
"Well, thank goodness, you're here at last!"
"Here at last! Why, what d'yer mean?
Ain't we just where we've always been?
Right in the front of the army,
Battling day and night!
Right in the front of the army,
Teaching'em bow to fight!"
Correspondents and Vets in force,
Mounted foot and dismounted horse,
All of them were, as a matter of course,
Right in the front of the army.
Old Lord Roberts will have to mind
If ever the enemy get behind;
For they'll smash him up with a rear attack,
Because his army has got no back!
Think of the horrors that might befall
An army without any rear at all!
Right in the front of the army,
Battling day and night!
Right in the front of the army,
Teaching 'em how to fight!
Swede attaches and German counts,
Yeomen (known as De Wet's Remounts),
All of them were, by their own accounts,
Right in the front of the army!
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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General Roberts in Afghanistan
'Twas in the year of 1878, and. the winter had set in,
Lord Roberts and the British Army their march did begin,
On their way to Afghanistan to a place called Cabul;
And the weather was bitter cold and the rivers swollen and full.
And the enemy were posted high up amongst the hills,
And when they saw the British, with fear their blood thrills;
The savages were camped on the hillsides in war array,
And occupying a strong position which before the British lay.
And viewed from the front their position was impregnable,
But Lord Roberts was a general of great skill;
Therefore to surprise the enemy he thought it was right,
To march upon the enemy in the dead of night.
Then the men were mustered without delay,
And each man of them was eager for the fray;
And in the silent darkness they felt no dismay,
And to attack the enemy they marched boldly away.
And on they marched bravely without fear or doubt,
And about daybreak the challenge of an Afghan sentinel rang out,
And echoed from rock to rock on the frosty biting air;
But the challenge didn't the British scare.
Then the Highlanders attacked them left and right,
And oh! it was a gorgeoua and an inspiring sight;
For a fierce hand to hand struggle raged for a time,
While the pibrochs skirled aloud, oh! the scene was sublime.
Then the Ghoorkas did the Afghans fiercely attack,
And at every point and turning they were driven back;
And a fierce hand to hand struggle raged for a time,
While in the morning sunshine the British bayonets did shine.
And around the ridge or knoll the battle raged for three hours,
And British bullets fell amongst them in showers;
For Captain Kelso brought us his mountain battery,
And sent his shells right into the camp of the enemy,
Then the left of the Afghans was turned, and began to flee.
Meanwhile, on the enemy's strong position Lord Roberts launched an attack,
And from their position they could hardly be driven back
Because the Afghans were hid amongst the woods and hills,
Still with undaunted courage, the British blood thrills.
And the Afghans pressed the British hotly, but they didn't give way,
For the 8th Ghoorkas and the 72nd kept them at bay;
And the mountain guns shells upon them did fire,
Then the 8th Punjaub, bounding up the heights, made them retire.
Then Major White seized a rifle from one of his men and did retire,
And levelled the piece fearlessly and did fire;
And with a steady and well-timed shot
He shot the Afghan leader dead on the spot.
Then the British with a wild cheer dashed, at them,
And on each side around they did them hem;
And at the bayonet charge they drove them down the hill,
And in hundreds they did them kill.
Then in a confused mass they fled down the opposite side of the hill
In hundreds,driven by sheer force sore against their will;
And helter-skelter they did run,
For all their positions were carried and the victory won.
Then on the 8th of August again Lord Roberts' march began
For to fight the rebel Ayoob Khan;
And with an army about seven thousand strong
On his way to Candahar he fearlessly marched along.
And the battle that followed at Candahar was a complete victory,
And Lord Roberts' march to Candahar stands unrivalled in history;
And let's thank God that sent Lord Roberts to conquer Ayoob Khan,
For from that time there's been no more war in Afghanistan.
Success to Lord Roberts; he's a very brave man,
For he conquered the Afghans in Afghanistan,
With an army about seven thousand strong,
He spread death and desolation all along.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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The Battle of Shina, in Africa, Fought in 1800
King Shuac, the Giant of Mizra, war did declare
Against Ulva, King of Shina, telling him to prepare
And be ready for to meet him in the fight,
Which would commence the next morning before daylight.
When King Ulva heard the news, he told his warriors to prepare,
Then suddenly the clatter of arms sounded in the night air;
And the pale beams of the moon shone on coats of mail,
But not one bosom beneath them with fear did quail.
And bugles rang out their hoarse call,
And armed men gathered quickly, not in dread of their downfall;
For King Ulva resolved to go and meet Shuac,
So, by doing so, King Ulva's men courage didn't lack.
Therefore, the temple was lighted up anew,
And filled with armed warriors, bold and true;
And the King stood clad in his armour, and full of pride,
As he gazed upon his warriors, close by his side.
And he bowed himself to the ground,
While there was a deep silence around;
And he swore, by his false god of the all-seeing eye,
That he would meet Shuac, King of Mizra, and make him fly.
And I swear that in Shina peace shall remain,
And whatever thou desireth, supreme one, will not be in vain;
For thou shalt get what thou considereth to be most fit,
Though it be of my own flesh and blood, I swear it.
Then, when all was in readiness, they marched before the dawn,
Sixty thousand in number, and each a picked man;
And they marched on silently to take Shuac's army by surprise,
And attack him if possible, before sunrise.
King Shuac's army were about one hundred thousand strong,
And, when King Ulva heard so, he cried, We'll conquer them ere long,
Therefore, march on, brave men, we'll meet them before daybreak,
So, be resolute and conquer, and fight for Shina's sake.
Within a mile of the enemy's camp they lay all night,
Scarcely taking well-earned repose, they were so eager for the fight;
And when the morning broke clear and cloudless, with a burning sky,
Each warrior was wishing that the fight was begun.
And as the armies neared one another, across the fertile land,
It was a most imposing sight, and truly grand,
To see the warriors clad in armour bright,
Especially the form of Shuac, in the midst of the fight.
The royal guard, forming the vanguard, made the first attack,
Under the command of King Ulva, who courage didn't lack;
And cries of "King Ulva!" and "King Shuac!" rent the air,
While Shuac cried, I'll burn Shina to the ground, I now do swear!
King Shuac was mounted on a powerful steed,
Which pressed its way through the ranks with lightning speed;
And with its hoofs the earth it uptears,
Until, with a bound, it dashes through the ranks of opposing spears.
Then the two Kings met each other at last,
And fire flashed from their weapons, and blows fell fast;
But Shuac was the strongest of the two,
But King Ulva was his match with the club, Ulva knew.
Then, with his club, he gave Shuac a blow, which wounded him deep,
Crying out, Shuac, thy blood is deserting thee! thou art a sheep!
Cried Ulva, dealing him another fearful blow,
Then Shuac raised his club and rushed on his foe.
Then his blow fell, and knocked Ulva's club from his hand,
While both armies in amazement stand
To watch the hand-to-hand fight,
While Shuac's warriors felt great delight.
But there chanced to be a Scotchman in Ulva's army,
That had a loaded pistol, and he fired it immediately,
And shot King Shuac through the head,
And he toppled over to the ground killed stone dead!
Then the men of Mizra laid down their arms and fled
When they saw that their King was killed dead;
Then King Ulva said to the Scotchman, I am thy servant for ever,
For to thee I owe my life, and nought but death will us sever.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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By fighting a limited, defensive war, America permitted the enemy to endlessly re-supply their field armies.
quote by Nguyen Cao Ky
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Aiki-Do ?
truely great as a warrior
he will never attack the enemy voluntarily
he will take the enemy's attack as if to take it in
he just avoids repeatedly, never getting tired
he just gets the enemy into himself in the end
DO
Talent
How do we react and over come crisis?
Is there any document or written thesis?
It is purely positive thinking and talent
One has to seize opportune time, act or relent
It is God gift and purely mind’s production
Ideas shape in formation with induction
Its presentation is rare with application
Can’t be countered with dubious means or duplication
Everyone is taken by surprise or mesmerized
Its skillful execution is never organized
It is instant and comes as pure response
Rich layout of words in correspondence
Neither one can claim or inherit from parent
Nor it can be exhibited in any one particular event
It has its own merit and offer splendid show
Clear cut advantage as seen with river’s flow
It has its ups and down with tidal waves
He is till his own master and not acts as slaves
Course will be steered and reached to destination
Failure is ruled out totally and out of question
Talent, if executed properly, can lead to glory
Big fame and name may be circulated as story
You have your reputation in all sphere of walk
Every word is precious and not considered as talk
Many may be benefited by masterly skill
It may be augmented by powerful will
World may be eluded for want of chance
Powerful bid may help but not simple glance
Luck may prove as detrimental force
Talent only can’t play part or enforce
It may need powerful drive with determination
No need to prove worth even in examination
It has got its own testing ground
In every walk of life it is not found
So many may not succeed in first round
Its essence is felt and must be so sound
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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A Wounded Gaddafi Vows National Defense
beware historical lessons of fatal North African sands
whole armies are swallowed in conflict in hostile lands
history taught well this region lessons of sly desert fox
Rommel most dangerous in retreat enemy armies shocks
Libya Gaddafi pride wounded animal seeks prey to attack
forces mixed among civilians hides from crusader missiles
Gaddafi claims to sand storm absorb invading NATO plans
scorpion waits in hot desert under covers in boots to attack
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Living With The Enemy
I gave you all that you wanted
and still you come back for more
You say that you're brokenhearted
but then you walk out the door
Maybe it is time for us to say goodbye
Where are the tears you never cried?
Hey baby what you got on your mind
are you looking for some sympathy?
I can tell you if it's a truth or a lie
'Cos it's just like living,
living with the enemy
You got me going in circles,
I'm slowly loosing my head
What did I do to deserve this,
you make me wish I was dead
Tell me I'm wrong and I'll be on my way
See you around another day
Hey baby what you doin' tonite?
Are you giving me the perfect dream
I'm so tired and I don't wanna fight
'Cos it's just like living,
living with the enemy, enemy
Living with the enemy, living with the enemy, enemy
Living with the enemy,enemy
Living with the enemy, living with the enemy, enemy
song performed by by Ozzy Osbourne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The One
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one again
No surprise
You wanna be the one
Heard you had a story to tell
Sold your soul in a kiss and tell
Sliding down on a helter skelter ride
Into yesterday
No way out, the price of fame
Once its told will you be the same
Rolling down on a roller coaster ride
Well be waiting for you
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one again
No surprise
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one
No surprise
You wanna be the one
Shock the world with your fall from grace
Glory days gone without a trace
No surprise youre a face without a name
But we all still love you
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one again
No surprise
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one
No surprise
You wanna be the one
Its time to tell you
Were faithful and true
Take us back to the days
When we could dream
cos it makes us happy
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one again
No surprise
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one
No surprise
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one again
No surprise
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one
No surprise
No surprise
Hey that you wanna be the one
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Enemy Of All
A father is the enemy
When he left unpaid debts
A foolish son is the enemy of
His parents
A beautiful wife is the enemy of
Her husband
A mother with loose character
Is the enemy of her children
A greedy corrupt and notorious king
Is the enemy of the country men
O friend, remember
If you are not doing any good deeds
Beneficial to others you are the enemy
Of your soul and enemy of you
As you are destroying yourself
As your same soul is there in the body of all.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The Enemy
Like everyone I demand to be
Defended unto the death of
All who defend me, all the
World's people I command to
Roundabout me shield me, to
Fight off the enemy. The
Theory is if they all stand
Banded together and wall me
Safe, there's no one left to
Be the enemy. Unless I of
Course start attack, snap-
Ping and shattering my hands
On your invincible backs.
poem by Bill Knott
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Ablaze
Ablaze! An armoured car
is aflame and stuck in
a field of landmines
and enemy tanks are everywhere.
So soldiers say - on yesterday –
just as the dawn was grey
a Ratels wheels
set some landmines of
and it was stuck there
and received seven shells
from enemy tanks
and it’s a terrible, terrible thing.
So Generals say – on yesterday –
just as the sun was rising
we lost one Ratel-90 armoured car
stuck in a landmine field,
but she gave a brave fight
and the enemy lost
thirteen tanks that came
to take a shot at her.
So angels say – on yesterday –
just as sun lit the sky,
man played war games again
and used explosives, cannon and flame
and innocent men died
trying to survive
and it’s a pity
that man doesn’t know
how to live in peace.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Today... 'The Captain of the Lord's hosts
When to Joshua You first appeared
Worshipping You he trembled and feared
For he was standing on Holy ground
And the shoes from his feet he unbound.
No enemy on earth or in hell
can withstand Your power or prevail
Satan and his minions take flight.
and flee with great trembling from the fight.
Over death You've won the victory
receiving all the honour and glory
The Captain of the Lord's Hosts arose
and conquered Satan and all His foes.
When I stand on the holiest ground
and there in Your presence I am found
'My Lord and my God' I will declare
and remove my shoes as I stand there.
With my face turned to the ground in fright
lost in wonder at my Captains sight
Then as Your comforting word I hear
it will removes all my guilt and fear.
The Captain of the Lord's hosts has died
To make me His own was crucified
Then in mighty power He arose
winning victory over His foes
Great Captain of the Angel armies
when You advance the enemy flees
No foe can withstand The Captains might
and Satan is banished from His sight
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box below)
End Of The Book
Words & music: mike hudson and michael w. smith
On the day
You were saved
Heaven and hell marked you down
Angels praise
Devils raged
Life became a battleground
So when hell starts to move
And the enemy marches on you
Hang on, its a fight
Youve been marked by the army of night
Youre a target
When your heart
Loved the dark
Hell could just leave you alone
With your life
Filled with light
You have become quite a foe
So when hell starts to move
And the enemy marches on you
Hang on, its a fight
Its a battle of darkness and light
Chorus:
When things get bad and you cant stand to look
Its time to read to the end of the book
Dont put it down til you get to the end
When jesus come and his kingdom begins
til he comes
God the son
Teaches us to use the sword
And every fight
Has a light
When you know we win the war
So when hell starts to move
And the enemy marches on you
Hang on, its a fight
Youre a part of the army of light
Chorus
song performed by by Michael W. Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A soldier is never.....
A soldier can never be known by his profession
A brave soldier needs no confession
He has no appetite for any season
He has to be in battle green with all the reasons
For little emergency his leave is cancelled
He is easily way laid and ambushed or killed
With his presence there prevails complete lull
He is committed for cause and remains truthful
He is living with most dangerous time zone
Little carelessness on his part means life is gone
They are known as brave sons of the soil
Any attempt made by the enemy stands to foil
It is respectful and dedicated service
Whole nation pays homage on his demise
His sacrifice is mostly taken on high note
Any deviation or desertion is taken as black spot
To serve motherland is considered as holy task
He may loose his life in powerful blast
He is there to serve up to last
No doubts can be raised or simply cast
He has to walk on sharp edge
His sharp intelligence works as knowledge
It is not loss of life that matter
Nothing can be compensated later
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Time Is The Enemy
Those days we gave our all
Unaffected
I bravely faced the fall
No reflection
Freak armies of the night.
Misdirected
I fought the useless fight
Unprotected
Dont cry for me
Time is the enemy
Soon Ill be free
I surrender
Sweet moon, she marks the year
Unreflected
How sad she has no tears
So neglected.
Dont cry for me
Time is the enemy
Soon Ill be free.
I surrender
song performed by by Toto
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Camps Of Green
NOT alone those camps of white, O soldiers,
When, as order'd forward, after a long march,
Footsore and weary, soon as the light lessen'd, we halted for the
night;
Some of us so fatigued, carrying the gun and knapsack, dropping
asleep in our tracks;
Others pitching the little tents, and the fires lit up began to
sparkle;
Outposts of pickets posted, surrounding, alert through the dark,
And a word provided for countersign, careful for safety;
Till to the call of the drummers at daybreak loudly beating the
drums,
We rose up refresh'd, the night and sleep pass'd over, and resumed
our journey,
Or proceeded to battle. 10
Lo! the camps of the tents of green,
Which the days of peace keep filling, and the days of war keep
filling,
With a mystic army, (is it too order'd forward? is it too only
halting awhile,
Till night and sleep pass over?)
Now in those camps of green--in their tents dotting the world;
In the parents, children, husbands, wives, in them--in the old and
young,
Sleeping under the sunlight, sleeping under the moonlight, content
and silent there at last,
Behold the mighty bivouac-field, and waiting-camp of all,
Of corps and generals all, and the President over the corps and
generals all,
And of each of us, O soldiers, and of each and all in the ranks we
fought, 20
(There without hatred we shall all meet.)
For presently, O soldiers, we too camp in our place in the bivouac-
camps of green;
But we need not provide for outposts, nor word for the countersign,
Nor drummer to beat the morning drum.
poem by Walt Whitman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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