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! On a practical note, in answer to your questions: IN MEMORIUM VerySara passed away November 12, 2005 Please visit her port to read her poems and her writings. More suggested links: These pictures rotate. Kåre Enga ~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go. ~ Elizabeth Bishop, The Fish |
My name's not Jack! Just call me Pumpkin my name's not Jack. I hide behind my cousins way in the back. I'm nothing to look at just another squash with one caveat I will not be quashed or carved into a grin to be marked or hatched. I have dignity that I defend — learned in the patch. Since I must die don't think of me as decoration bake me into pie I'll exceed your expectation. I promise. No lie. Just serve me to the poorest child or to the homeless man, those who remember how they smiled when grandma set the pan to cool. Oh, how they all would drool! My name's not Jack! I will not die to bully or scare Allow me to serve those who give back, who share, and sharing let me be grateful and not upset to die by caring without regrets. © Copyright 2020 Kåre Enga [177.257] 32 lines of abab rhyme
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