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 |
Stolen from Joy and her "The Windmills of Your Mind" "Windmills of the Mind" is the stolen prompt. In part: Keys that jingle in your pocket Words that jangle in your head Why did summer go so quickly? Was it something that you said? Lovers walk along a shore And leave their footprints in the sand Was the sound of distant drumming Just the fingers of your hand? Pictures hanging in a hallway Or the fragment of a song Half-remembered names and faces But to whom do they belong? When you knew that it was over Were you suddenly aware That the autumn leaves were turning To the color of her hair? Like a circle in a spiral Like a wheel within a wheel Never ending or beginning On an ever-spinning reel As the images unwind Like the circles that you find In the windmills of your mind” The basic rhythm is 8/7/8/7 with a rhyme scheme of xaxa. To my ear, the first line's meter is is: --/---/- with the second --/---/; or basically --/---/---/---/. My derived poem: It's for myself I weep for Kevin When I knew that it was over was I suddenly aware that the autumn leaves were fading like the color of your hair? Did I realize that nightmares would replace my fondest dreams? Was it all just some illusion in the shadow of moonbeams? And now that I've awakened after years of restless sleep, in the quiet of the morning is it for myself I weep? And does it really matter you were once my closest friend, that once you pledged your love to me? For that shall never end! Though memories have faded and now darkness snuffs the light, in the heart of who I've since become you shine there young and bright © Kåre Enga (7.juli.2019) [176.136] 102.890 |