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 |
Rainbows Today we make love for the first time, Zmitri. My lava rock melts your glacial countenance. I bask in your steamy smile. And in the warm ensuing flood, we ride the cresting waves through time; alack, to go our separate ways. You'll have this memory of hiss and beams; I'll forever inhale your cooling quench of thirst. What have we thrust upon this universe? O Zmitri, lover upon first sight, first ____ A billion years from now a poetic fish, on some insignificant spinning rock, will best express this moment, remembering us. And all will be rainbow, rainbow, rainbow. © Kåre Enga [12.november.2016] Inspired by Ann-Lisa who wanted a Zmitri poem... so I wrote a new one. "rainbow, rainbow, rainbow" read "The Fish" by Elizabeth Bishop. |