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 |
[as flesh sloughs off these blenching bones] as flesh sloughs off these blenching bones, you fill the hours of my longing abandoned, I will die alone for I am made of dirt and stone and naught can right these worldly wrongs once flesh sloughs off these blenching bones what friends could not accept, condone I spoke to swaying gath'ring throngs yet now abandoned, die alone where bitter winds have come and blown away the breath of once belonging flesh sloughs off these blenching bones and only you are left to moan, one fading note, one last torch song but now I leave to die alone your fingers can no longer roam my face, embrace and heal with songs as flesh sloughs off these blenching bones abandoned, I will die alone KE [177.26] (10.abril.2020) A variation of a villanelle: 1b2 ab1 ab2 ab1 ab2 ab12 104,075 |