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 |
Water Glistening you slid over shoulders slipped between fingers and toes soothed the sunburn that smoldered dripped from the tip of her nose. You mirrored her face in cold puddles, tinkled from high waterfalls, cleansed her thoughts that were muddled, gave her her Life above all. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.167] (26.juni.2021) For
8 lines; abab rhyme. |
Strawberry moonlight Moments before you burst out in flames, spread your dying embers across the mountains and plains, I sit in vigil waiting for the clouds to be aroused by your Midas touch, wait knowing it's been years since I've touched you — once. Slowly the topaz reaches out to the one I love, slowly gold rays follow, and now rubies hang their ornaments as amethyst stretches west to east, where now you sleep. Look up! Look up to receive the message I send by Strawberry moonlight. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.165] (25.juni.2021) |
A dance in peach and puce You make me squint again, as if I'd see you better if I put my glasses on; but, even then, long years ago, I couldn't see you. You shone too bright, your breath too hot, my pulsing heart erratic and about to burst. Better to wait for the Mistress of the Night. Her heart of stone might stay cold but would she burn me? No. Now you start you nightly show. The sky's your stage. I ponder whether I should watch your celestial dance in peach and puce until you pucker and fade. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.163] (23.juni.2021) |
On the Sunset Viewing Bridge You scorched us, now you try to make up, all kissy kissy in a blaze of color. You lip the clouds as orange ripples turn red with delight. Cameras record the sight as we bat away the bugs. On the sunset viewing bridge we wait for you to bid good night. We wait and watch and wait. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.161] (23.juni.2021) |
Orange eye squinting, we worship the Moon Orange eye squinting between branches trying to hold on reluctant to go promising to turn everything false gold before you swoon and fall behind your horizon Far from your zenith you keep your own council your flickering flame, your dying embers We worship the Moon, its gentle reflection, its calm meditation, how it doesn't burn while guiding us through the night. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.158.s] (21.juni.2021) |
Good riddance The East Wind waves goodbye. You're old, you're feeble, you're no longer welcome. Your glow fades from green to yellow to golden dun. You no longer light the mountainside. It's the Solstice. Wiil you come back tomorrow? Will you dim as you wander south? Go. Bring us back the night and cloak of darkness. You'll be missed by many, but the East Wind is not your slave and the bonds that bind us will be shattered. Goodbye. The East Wind waves. Good riddance. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.157.s] (20.juni.2021) |
O Fiery Ball from Hell Go hide behind those grey curtains, you fiery Ball from Hell. Good riddance. You have no shame for the Life you wither. Go thither... somewhere where they worship your flame. Perhaps Oregon. Moss covered, shrouded by dark pines. Just... don't torch them. Tonight you glow brilliant. But we all know your game. Across the galaxy your brethren burn with no shame. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.156.s] (19.juni.2021) |
Complaints to the swallows You seek to fool us with your radiance, adding a golden glow to the thirsty hills, the glistening river's ripples, as if we're deaf to the rapid's roar. We will forgive you if you raise your voice in thunder. Storm on us rather than leave us to die in the dust. Oh... do what you must. You'll show back up at Dawn no matter how much we complain to the swallows... or the empty sky. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.155.s] (16.juni.2021) |
Keep your word Oh Wind, if only you'd cool my room instead of freezing me whilst I sit by the open window. Your clouds promise rain. For whom? I want no promises blown about by a careless breeze. Give me an answer. Keep your word. Or keep blowing eastward — where you may do some good. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.154.s] (15.juni.2021) |
Kayakers surf All gone except the shredded rags in the north embroidered in peach. You're beyond my reach, as quiet as the cooling calm, as distant. Kayakers still surf waves as Twilight descends. No rush. Summer days stretch, doing their yoga for hours. It's still light enough on the river. Even the glow of the globe long set still lingers. Let them have their fun! Summer has just begun. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.153.s] (14.juni.2021) |