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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/982524-Laura-del-Campo/day/4-21-2017
Rated: 13+ · Book · Personal · #982524
Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation.
*Smile*          *Smirk*          *Yawn*

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:

K.U. Campanile
These pictures rotate.



 Kåre *Leaf5* Enga
~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go.
~ Elizabeth Bishop,
The Fish
April 21, 2017 at 4:50pm
April 21, 2017 at 4:50pm
#909604
What lingers

What could not be said
lay between us
long suffering moans
reluctant death
blurred boundary of reality
created of its own fantasy
more smoke than fire,
like a promise of water
that did not quench our thirst.
For years it hung
like a veil between us
then like the mists of time...
faded with regrets.

© Kåre Enga (20.aprille.2017) [174.44]

For Dew Drop Inn #20 - what lingers
April 21, 2017 at 4:42pm
April 21, 2017 at 4:42pm
#909603
In Beara

On soft mornings
when vanished water reappears
dividing a landscape by brook and bracken,
harsh to the touch, softened by mist
and always ready to turn your ankle...

Beware! You'll fall for it:
golden gorse and pink heather,
stoned coffins lined with moss,
starving for your flesh.

© Kåre Enga (20.abril.2017) [174. 43]

Beara, County Kerry/Cork, Ireland. Written while listening to Leanne O'Sullivan at Fact & Fiction.
April 21, 2017 at 4:18pm
April 21, 2017 at 4:18pm
#909602
Aleppo

Thousands of years to raise these walls,
these bombed out walls.
How many centuries to rebuild them?
Will we care to rebuild them.
What ties severed will be re-tied
or never rejoined in other lands
where our ways will fade
into foreign tapestries,
mere threads among the millions.
Here or there, we will survive,
but our land, our walls, our way of life
will vanish.

© Kåre Enga (20.april.2017) [174.42]


Earlier version

Aleppo

A thousand years to raise these walls,
these bombed out walls.
How many centuries to rebuild them?
Will we care to rebuild them.
What ties severed will be re-tied
or never rejoined in other lands
where our ways will fade
into foreign tapestries,
one mere thread among the millions.
Here or there, we will survive,
but our land, our walls, our way of life
will vanish.

© Kåre Enga (20.april.2017) [174.42]

Dew Drop Inn #24: starting over
April 21, 2017 at 4:03pm
April 21, 2017 at 4:03pm
#909601
Twinflower

Five pendulous lobes each hang in pairs.
Our pistils pregnant as leaves expectant
celebrate new specks of being.
So tiny. Smaller even than our pink corollas
that begged the bee to visit, sip sweet nectar,
leave a grain of pollen to spark new life.
Oh how simple things provide such wonder;
how joyous to be alive.

© Kåre Enga (20.april.2017) [174.41]

(Dew Drop Inn prompt #22)
The flower of Linnaea borealis is the provincial flower of Småland, the home province of Linnaeus (and where my Swedish roots were born).
April 21, 2017 at 1:21pm
April 21, 2017 at 1:21pm
#909593
Inner sinkholes

Holes within me widen;
synapses of raw nerves now rot.
What was certain land dissolves to quicksand.
What was once transparent now is not.
Opaque senses invade my being;
thoughts evade, just mere abstractions.
Poorly poured concrete crumbles; my home,
a bed of soil and weeds, awaits me.
Mere blush remains where pastel
landscapes lost their color.
In this place of near horizons,
I celebrate each emptiness,
hoping you will deign to fill it.

© Kåre Enga (20.abril.2017) [174.40]

Well... not quite sure where this is going! But... by posting I can edit at will.


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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/982524-Laura-del-Campo/day/4-21-2017