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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/982524-Laura-del-Campo/day/4-14-2020
Rated: 13+ · Book · Personal · #982524
Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation.
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L'aura del campo


'é a lua, é a lua, na quintana dos mortos'
♣ Federico García Lorca ♣


Higgins Street Bridge, April 25th  2009, Missoula, Montana


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 L*Flower2*V*Flower2* COMMENTS!

On a practical note, in answer to your questions:

Gifts from NOVAcatmando kiyasama alfred booth, wanbli ska ransomme Iowegian Skye

Merit Badge in Reviewing
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For your support and suggestions on my haiku "Lone Poinsettia" which took second place in the contest and will be published.  Thanks for helping make it a winning poem! Merit Badge in Nano Winner
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CONGRATULATIONS on your achievement! *^*Bigsmile*^* Merit Badge in Reviewing
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For help finding a title for my first chapbook.  We're not there yet, but your ideas are always interesting.
Merit Badge in Funny
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Merit Badge in Friendship
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Thanks for being my friend.

Hugz! 

grannym Merit Badge in Appreciation
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For brightening my day with your delightful offerings ~ Thank you so much! *^*Heart*^*


IN MEMORIUM

VerySara

passed away November 12, 2005

Please visit her port to read her poems and her writings.
More suggested links:

Knees of the trees, a fountain, a rainbow, Muscogee, OK in 2004.
These pictures rotate.



 Kåre *Leaf5* Enga
~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go.
~ Elizabeth Bishop,
The Fish
April 14, 2020 at 9:16pm
April 14, 2020 at 9:16pm
#981130
Rosemary told me she has no tattoos

Spring sprung and peach blossoms burst.
Rosemary was tempted to ride a motorbike; but,
she'd never ridden in an ambulance before,
never'd hit a deer, never watched

someone die and didn't want herself
to be the first. She had no scars, no broken
bones (except ... maybe ... her little toe).
She wanted to live under bluegreen skies,

thrive to capture eighty more years
of sunrise over the ocean, more summer
sunsets and slices of warm peach pie.

I penned another poem to honor her name
and asked who'll read this? Rosemary
smiled, then replied: Don't matter to me.

KE [177.33] (14.april.2020)

This is supposed to be like a sonnet but breaking the rules. To me it's just free verse. I have no idea what others consider a beat or a meter or anything else. My ear does not hear any music in what I wrote above and I hear what I read so for me it feels like cut up prose. But whatever ...

It's based on answers at spacebook to one of those silly questionnaires. Have you ever done this? Do you have any of those? Who will play along? I left out that Rosemary doesn't have a tattoo... and then added that tidbit to the title. She's a real person and just turned 80.
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