Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation.
L'aura del campo
'é a lua, é a lua, na quintana dos mortos'
♣ Federico García Lorca ♣
L'aura del campo. A breeze in the meadow. So it began the last day of Spring, 2005; on the 16th day of the month of Light of the year 162. This is a supplement to my daily journal written to a friend, my muse; notes I do not share. Here I will share what the breeze has whispered to me.
PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS! I LV COMMENTS!
passed away November 12, 2005
Please visit her port to read her poems and her writings.
These pictures rotate.
~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go.
~ Elizabeth Bishop,
Quail to the...
wham bam thank-you-ma'am of love,
the whizz fizz gulp of carnal lust,
the star-spangled jangle of loose-lipped words,
the murmuring babble we've come to distrust,
as we google the gurgle of your bugled lies
and play tap tap Taps with disgust
o'er the hush hush hush of your dust.
© Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.274.J5] (36.oktober.2021)
Abstact words: love, lust, words, distrust, lies, disgust. Concrete: dust.
You MUST use at least one of the following: fizz, gulp, murmur, hush, or jangle. You can use them all if you want, but you must use at least one.
|In response to Georgia O'Keeffe's collection.
It's your flowers...
the invitation to enter, be amazed,
to look at life in an up-close way.
Oh! How to shrink myself and enter,
vow to wake up with your morning glories,
now to smell the crimson roses,
hear the angel trumpets sing!
© Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.273.J4] (36.oktober.2021)