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 |
Opera at midnight A fox chases a rabbit across an ebony field intent on supper until an owl wings its flight joining the chase while arrows fly from the Night-Hunter's quiver, he-who-strolls-amid-moonbeams, as his canine yaps in the language of stars, so soft ... like a whisper ... till a CLAP of thunder awakens the audience and skies weep with delight. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.11] (27.march.2021) 15 lines free verse For March '21
Prompt: SHAPES IN THE CLOUDS... but taboo words: white, fluffy, floating, rain, sun night-hunter = Orion canine = Canus Major and Sirius, the dog-star |