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 |
Mystress of May laments Welcome to my world that oozes green, a land of ichor, and sickly things. a place where you don't dare to sit nor rest where nestlings eye your fleshy wings. My land spits pestilence and drought, broad wastelands of fire and eyes that burn, barren birthlands dead to all that lived where maggots midst your bones will churn." Hush, before June's Mistress hears you gloat; she'll wipe your presence off her globe the one she holds tight in her hand the one she peers at with her probe. She ordered me to speak, so hold your breath! Ha! She commanded me to arrange your death. © Copyright 2022 Kåre Enga [179.40] (30.juni.2022) For:
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For June '22 "Invalid Item" ![]() Gingerbread, gingerbread, Gingerbread Man Bake me a cake as fast as you can. Gingerbread Man in a slow rattling whisper Use unsalted butter — and unsulphured molasses, they say; but — life is bittersweet. Add blackstrap, mind the boiling water, forget the grimaces on that kiddie's face — more for me. Is your hair still red? Even better — add a snip or two. Make sure you have enough baking soda — before you begin. Substitute two small eggs if yours aren't large enough. Did you find the cloves? They've been hidden behind the cinnamon since last time — oh so long ago. I missed you, your freckles, that crooked leg — sorry about the dog. Whisk it up in a bowl. My arms don't have the strength — they're always sore. Bake until its done, then slice a fresh hot piece. Too bad you're just a cookie — or I'd ask for more. © Copyright 2022 Kåre Enga [179.39] (30.juni.2022) 24 lines, free verse Recipe by Once Upon a Chef (Jenn Segal) found on-line: 1½ cups all-purpose flour, spooned into measuring cup and leveled-off with back edge of knife 1 teaspoon baking soda ½ teaspoon salt 2 teaspoons ground ginger 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon ¼ teaspoon ground cloves 4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted ⅔ cup packed dark brown sugar ⅔ cup mild-flavored molasses, such as Grandma's Original (not Robust or Blackstrap) ⅔ cup boiling water 1 large egg Begin by combining the flour, baking soda, salt, ginger, cinnamon and cloves in a large bowl. Whisk to combine and set aside. Melt the butter in a large microwave-safe bowl. Whisk in the brown sugar, molasses, and boiling water. When the mixture is lukewarm, whisk in the egg. (If the mixture is too hot, it will cook the egg.) Add the dry ingredients. Whisk until there are no more lumps. Pour into pan. Bake for about 35 minutes. |