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 |
Fragments at cloudy dawn the lion still sleeps one eye open [179.2a] Behind grey clouds the hidden sun works on spring [179.2b] Do not ask permission to do the right thing for yourself For others — always ask first [179.2c] On the tongue a taste of cinnamon no sight, no sound [179.2d] |
Saint Regis remembered I have never stayed in Lake Placid, a misnomer encased in snow and ice, a place to drive though on the way to better vistas, calm cool nights. Spitfire, placid, hoped-for breeze, summer ease, bluegills caught, Sunfish sailing, a dingy's ride through golden lilies, a lake remembered for 50 years. © Copyright 2022 Kåre Enga [179.4] (23.mars.2022) 106.027 |