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 ![]() ![]() 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 ![]() ~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go. ~ Elizabeth Bishop, The Fish |
hyacinth = regret foxglove = protection plumbago = hope Regrets Her hyacinths bloomed a month late red-purple tears clinging to a stalk small fleshy stars, fragrant, almost cloying. They couldn't bring her back, not her fingers planting their bulbs, not her waiting all winter long, not her longing. © Copyright 2022 Kåre Enga [178.337] (27.januar.2022) Protection Snug in the foxglove, the faeries hid from the rain, the bumblebee too, the occasional fly, the hungry spider. All sought refuge inside the cloak felt the storm sway the stalk as if to ring the bells to sing "you are safe". © Copyright 2022 Kåre Enga [178.338] (27.januar.2022) Plumbago The sun fell, leaving a carpet of light blue blooms on bright green leaves irrepressibly cheerful. Not matter how often the gardener clipped and fashioned them they always sprung forth with joy for where there was there joy ...there was hope. © Copyright 2022 Kåre Enga [178.339] (27.januar.2022) For
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