Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
Mont Taba
A time we spent
Near your lower hills,
Your stones greeted us
And spoke to us of love,
Out of your rocks
We built a temple
To guard our union -
A child-like encounter
We never outgrew,
We played the game of innocence
On your chilled top,
Our embraced souls
Shrouded by your snowflakes,
Never shivered, never quivered,
Never wanted to part,
A game we thought we would
Never stop playing.
poem
by
Ibrahim Ibn Salma
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black