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 |    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 L  V 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 |
Flora circa 1888 Flora tended her garden petunias, daisies her thrall each planted for their beauty or fragrance they waft over all. She planted bulbs in autumn picked bouquets come early spring in summer hunted for berries, by autumn canned everything. All winter she sat by the fireplace, spread jam on oven fresh bread, inhaled the fragrant rose petals, flourished while others dropped dead. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.109] (20.juni.2021) For
12 lines; xaxa rhyme. |
| Navigating the shallows Wending her way through shallows, weeping willows caressed her arms as she watched an osprey fish while grey skies promised rain. "I wish." She prayed that harm would never come to roost among the swaying branches, that pain would wait for some other day; her arms felt leaden, her lungs ready to return to clay, the pole hung heavy. As she turned and saw a rainbow, she lifted her face to receive a cleansing, the hole in her heart slowly sealing as a fish broke the surface sending ripples racing towards shoals, and a shimmer of hope her way. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.105] (12.juni.2021) 17 lines with rhymes. For:
Taboo words for 'PUNTING ON THE RIVER': boat, water, punt, float, splash or any derivatives of these words. |
| “Dazy Hell” Dazy, Dazy, allow me to nip your bud. I’m half crazy for th' iron in your blood. It won’t be a longish huggin'. I must cut short my clubbin', 'fore dawn bleeds red, asleep in bed in a casket fit for a stud. Mikey, Mikey, here is your answer true. I’m not crazed to be stuck forever with you. I'm cloaked in silver and garlic flesh rubbed to give you colic ‘Cuz no one pecks upon my neck in a casket built just for you. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.102] (22.juni.2021) For
Original version (1892) First sung by a computer in 1961: |
| Sit next to the fire, as close as you dare a solstice villanesque Sit next to the fire, as close as you dare as beacons are lit to beckon the dawn. Snuggle with me to dispel the chill air. Don't pout about how this life's so unfair, weighing the yeas and nays, the pros, the cons; just, sit next to the fire, close as you dare. Forget about others who stare and glare. Think only of my shoulder as you yawn. Snuggle with me to dispel the chill air. No matter the mosquitoes, don't be scared. Be happy and joyful; be not withdrawn. Sit next to my fire, as close as you dare, knowing that I'll always take the best care of you, my love, take refuge in my brawn. Snuggle with me to dispel the chill air and to banish the cobwebs of despair. I'll protect your heart, for what's gone is gone. Snuggle with me to dispel the chill air. Sleep next to my fire, as close as you dare. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.99] (22.juni.2021) Prompt:  Write a villanelle about the shortest night of the year.3rd place in
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