<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<rdf:RDF xmlns:rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" xmlns:default="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:admin="http://webns.net/mvcb/" xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><default:channel xmlns="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/" xmlns:rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:admin="http://webns.net/mvcb/" xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/" rdf:about="http://my-book.blog.co.uk/"><title>first chapter of my book</title><link>http://my-book.blog.co.uk/</link><description></description><dc:language xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/">en-UK</dc:language><admin:generatorAgent xmlns:admin="http://webns.net/mvcb/" xmlns:rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" rdf:resource="http://www.blog.co.uk"/><sy:updatePeriod xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/">hourly</sy:updatePeriod><sy:updateFrequency xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/">8</sy:updateFrequency><sy:updateBase xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/">2000-01-01T12:00+00:00</sy:updateBase><image><title>first chapter of my book</title><link>http://my-book.blog.co.uk/</link><url>http://data5.blog.de/design/preview/41/43b174c9d077f9f7f7c577b3678da5_160x200.jpg</url></image><items><rdf:Seq><rdf:li rdf:resource="http://my-book.blog.co.uk/2007/02/12/check_dis_out~1726529/"/><rdf:li rdf:resource="http://my-book.blog.co.uk/2007/02/11/title~1721149/"/></rdf:Seq></items></default:channel><default:item xmlns:default="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/" xmlns:rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/" rdf:about="http://my-book.blog.co.uk/2007/02/12/check_dis_out~1726529/"><default:title>check dis out!</default:title><default:link>http://my-book.blog.co.uk/2007/02/12/check_dis_out~1726529/</default:link><dc:date xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/">2007-02-12T13:26:09+01:00</dc:date><default:description>	&lt;p&gt;This is a poem which I intend to include in one of my 'in the process of making poetry books'. The book may be called- 'poems about everything, anything and something.'&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;And the poem called-The Knight of the night&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;In the shdows,&lt;br&gt;
Thats where he'll be,&lt;br&gt;
Hiding there,&lt;br&gt;
For no-one to see.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;All hidden deeply,&lt;br&gt;
By fog and mist,&lt;br&gt;
He summons the wind for a gentle kiss.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;His eyes sparkle,&lt;br&gt;
Like the stars of the night,&lt;br&gt;
He moves silently,&lt;br&gt;
Out of sight.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;When you see him,&lt;br&gt;
You'll feel a cold shiver,&lt;br&gt;
You'll feel the waters,&lt;br&gt;
Of the river.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;If you go out,&lt;br&gt;
In the night,&lt;br&gt;
You will see him,&lt;br&gt;
Burning bright.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;The 'hoot' of the owl,&lt;br&gt;
The 'scrape of the claw,&lt;br&gt;
The rustling of the bushes,&lt;br&gt;
Thats his law.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;He freezes the trunks,&lt;br&gt;
He rips up the leaves,&lt;br&gt;
He digs up the roots,&lt;br&gt;
Swaying in the breeze.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Flutting in the wind,&lt;br&gt;
His deep, black robes,&lt;br&gt;
Encrusted with diamonds,&lt;br&gt;
The stars of those.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;He lingers in the sky,&lt;br&gt;
With all his might,&lt;br&gt;
He tries to hold on,&lt;br&gt;
Yet never fails to excite.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;He appears everyday,&lt;br&gt;
Dark at night,&lt;br&gt;
So you'll see him,&lt;br&gt;
The Knight of the night.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;If dere r any comments, post dem it would be gr8 2 hear 'em! &lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_biggrin.gif" alt=":D" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_idea.gif" alt=":idea:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;
&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://my-book.blog.co.uk/2007/02/12/check_dis_out~1726529/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</default:description><content:encoded xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><![CDATA[	<p>This is a poem which I intend to include in one of my 'in the process of making poetry books'. The book may be called- 'poems about everything, anything and something.'</p>
	<p>And the poem called-The Knight of the night</p>
	<p>In the shdows,<br>
Thats where he'll be,<br>
Hiding there,<br>
For no-one to see.</p>
	<p>All hidden deeply,<br>
By fog and mist,<br>
He summons the wind for a gentle kiss.</p>
	<p>His eyes sparkle,<br>
Like the stars of the night,<br>
He moves silently,<br>
Out of sight.</p>
	<p>When you see him,<br>
You'll feel a cold shiver,<br>
You'll feel the waters,<br>
Of the river.</p>
	<p>If you go out,<br>
In the night,<br>
You will see him,<br>
Burning bright.</p>
	<p>The 'hoot' of the owl,<br>
The 'scrape of the claw,<br>
The rustling of the bushes,<br>
Thats his law.</p>
	<p>He freezes the trunks,<br>
He rips up the leaves,<br>
He digs up the roots,<br>
Swaying in the breeze.</p>
	<p>Flutting in the wind,<br>
His deep, black robes,<br>
Encrusted with diamonds,<br>
The stars of those.</p>
	<p>He lingers in the sky,<br>
With all his might,<br>
He tries to hold on,<br>
Yet never fails to excite.</p>
	<p>He appears everyday,<br>
Dark at night,<br>
So you'll see him,<br>
The Knight of the night.</p>
	<p>If dere r any comments, post dem it would be gr8 2 hear 'em! <img src="/img/smilies/icon_biggrin.gif" alt=":D" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_idea.gif" alt=":idea:" class="middle" border="0">
</p>
<p> <small> <a href="http://my-book.blog.co.uk/2007/02/12/check_dis_out~1726529/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>]]></content:encoded></default:item><default:item xmlns:default="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/" xmlns:rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/" rdf:about="http://my-book.blog.co.uk/2007/02/11/title~1721149/"><default:title>title-1721149</default:title><default:link>http://my-book.blog.co.uk/2007/02/11/title~1721149/</default:link><dc:date xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/">2007-02-11T15:40:03+01:00</dc:date><default:description>	&lt;p class="center"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Prologue &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;The man in a white lab coat, known as Danny threw down his clipboard. &lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;“Dinner at last!” he said happily. He had only eaten two bacon sandwiches for his second snack and that had been nearly an hour ago. &lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;He liked his food, mostly because it always consisted of greasy bacon from the mothers and fathers of all fat pigs. Actually, if he didn’t walk on two legs and have a jungle of hair on his head, and he walked into a butcher’s one day he might have been mistaken for a pig himself. And some poor unfortunate bloke sitting in his dining room a hundred miles away – a few weeks later – having his dinner and thought he was tucking into a nice ‘bacon’ sandwich would be spewing his guts out at the amount of fat on his ‘bacon’.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Danny picked up his coat and put it on, and then he grabbed two large rolls of blue paper. He threw them into a safe. He punched in a code onto the keypad, for the safe. The door closed and there was a series of clicking noises. He went across to a computer and entered some codes, so that the safe was rotated, pulled into the wall and then taken underground into a special room constructed of a bomb proof material and reinforced concrete. The room was ‘impenetrable’. Its only weakness was seven different nineteen digit codes to access the safe and a retina scan used to get into the room. And the only people who were supposed to know the codes and whose finger-prints could to access the room were Danny and John Evans, the head of the project since it began 13 years ago.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Danny waited for a final click which sounded moments after the safe was taken underground. He looked at his watch – half past ten. He went to the lights and switched them off. Then he locked the door behind him – automatically switching on the motion sensors, laser tripwires and cameras. &lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;“All this security for a couple of rolls of blue paper with some drawings on! But I suppose those papers are worth a few million, but it’s still stupid – things aren’t exactly going to go ‘bump’ in the night and those silly scraps of paper aren’t going to disappear” Danny thought. He walked away, without a second glance. If he had he would have seen the slim figure dressed all in–black, scan his retina and quietly sneak into the room Danny had just left.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt; Any comments?&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p class="center"&gt;
	&lt;p class="center"&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://my-book.blog.co.uk/2007/02/11/title~1721149/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</default:description><content:encoded xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><![CDATA[	<p class="center"><u><strong>Prologue </strong></u></p>
	<p>The man in a white lab coat, known as Danny threw down his clipboard. </p>
	<p>“Dinner at last!” he said happily. He had only eaten two bacon sandwiches for his second snack and that had been nearly an hour ago. </p>
	<p>He liked his food, mostly because it always consisted of greasy bacon from the mothers and fathers of all fat pigs. Actually, if he didn’t walk on two legs and have a jungle of hair on his head, and he walked into a butcher’s one day he might have been mistaken for a pig himself. And some poor unfortunate bloke sitting in his dining room a hundred miles away – a few weeks later – having his dinner and thought he was tucking into a nice ‘bacon’ sandwich would be spewing his guts out at the amount of fat on his ‘bacon’.</p>
	<p>Danny picked up his coat and put it on, and then he grabbed two large rolls of blue paper. He threw them into a safe. He punched in a code onto the keypad, for the safe. The door closed and there was a series of clicking noises. He went across to a computer and entered some codes, so that the safe was rotated, pulled into the wall and then taken underground into a special room constructed of a bomb proof material and reinforced concrete. The room was ‘impenetrable’. Its only weakness was seven different nineteen digit codes to access the safe and a retina scan used to get into the room. And the only people who were supposed to know the codes and whose finger-prints could to access the room were Danny and John Evans, the head of the project since it began 13 years ago.</p>
	<p>Danny waited for a final click which sounded moments after the safe was taken underground. He looked at his watch – half past ten. He went to the lights and switched them off. Then he locked the door behind him – automatically switching on the motion sensors, laser tripwires and cameras. </p>
	<p>“All this security for a couple of rolls of blue paper with some drawings on! But I suppose those papers are worth a few million, but it’s still stupid – things aren’t exactly going to go ‘bump’ in the night and those silly scraps of paper aren’t going to disappear” Danny thought. He walked away, without a second glance. If he had he would have seen the slim figure dressed all in–black, scan his retina and quietly sneak into the room Danny had just left.</p>
	<p> Any comments?</p>
	<p class="center">
	<p class="center">
<p> <small> <a href="http://my-book.blog.co.uk/2007/02/11/title~1721149/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>]]></content:encoded></default:item></rdf:RDF>
