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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/982524-Laura-del-Campo/month/7-1-2022
Rated: 13+ · Book · Personal · #982524

Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation.

*Delight*          *Smirk*          *Cool*

L'aura del campo


'é a lua, é a lua, na quintana dos mortos'
♣ Federico García Lorca ♣


Higgins Street Bridge, April 25th  2009, Missoula, Montana


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*Flower2*V*Flower2* COMMENTS!

On a practical note, in answer to your questions:

Gifts from NOVAcatmando Author Icon kiyasama alfred booth, wanbli ska Author Icon ransomme Iowegian Skye Author Icon

Merit Badge in Reviewing
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For your support and suggestions on my haiku "Lone Poinsettia" which took second place in the contest and will be published.  Thanks for helping make it a winning poem! Merit Badge in Nano Winner
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CONGRATULATIONS on your achievement! *^*Bigsmile*^* Merit Badge in Reviewing
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For help finding a title for my first chapbook.  We're not there yet, but your ideas are always interesting.
Merit Badge in Funny
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Merit Badge in Friendship
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Thanks for being my friend.

Hugz! 

grannym Merit Badge in Appreciation
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For brightening my day with your delightful offerings ~ Thank you so much! *^*Heart*^*


IN MEMORIUM

VerySara Author Icon

passed away November 12, 2005

Please visit her port to read her poems and her writings.
More suggested links:

K.U. Campanile
These pictures rotate.



 Kåre *Leaf5* Enga
~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go.
~ Elizabeth Bishop,
The Fish
July 28, 2022 at 5:05pm
July 28, 2022 at 5:05pm
#1035811
Anatomy of a pochette

Was it how you worked the leather,
when suede pieces sewed together,
a brown strap became a tether,
caressing your heart.

The one you guard inside your chest,
the one you seldom share nor test,
the one I love more than the rest,
kept at a distance.


© Copyright 2022 Kåre Enga [179.50] (27.juli.2022)

8 lines; rhyme aaax; 8/8/8/x; ovi, a Marathi poetic metre.

Pochette: wallet, handbag.
Prompt: structure

For "EXPRESS IT IN EIGHT Open in new Window.
July 24, 2022 at 5:06pm
July 24, 2022 at 5:06pm
#1035645
Cherries before chores

Morning has broken
when the sky opens up.
Dreams interrupted
by the flashes and claps.

Chores still await me;
it's cooler than before.
Cooler to watch rain,
pop cherries in my mouth.


© Copyright 2022 Kåre Enga [179.48] (24.juli.2022)

8 lines; no rhyme; 5/6/5/6.

Note: line 6: 'before' or 'last night'?
July 22, 2022 at 11:06pm
July 22, 2022 at 11:06pm
#1035573

One beat

—I'm here to return a heart.
—We don't...
—It's slightly worn and very tired, but it still beats.
—We...
—don't accept hearts. I know. This place operates without one.
— ...
—Don't look so shocked. I used to live here. I had to leave just to find a heart. None for sale or rent within 100 miles.
—We...
—like it that way. I understand. But this heart is special.
—How is that? It looks just like any other heart.
—Oh... are you sure? Look closer.
— ...
—Don't act so afraid.
— ...
—I traced it back to its owner.
—And?
—It once belonged to you.

© Copyright 2022 Kåre Enga [179.47] (22.juli.2022)
July 21, 2022 at 5:46pm
July 21, 2022 at 5:46pm
#1035531
Fruits of inaction

The other shoe dropped
and we were tearful—and wailing.
it couldn't be stopped,
so we sat there sinking—and bailing.

We knew it was coming,
that day when no rights—would be left,
but we'd done nothing,
so we mourn, distraught—and bereft.


© Copyright 2022 Kåre Enga [179.46] (21.juli.2022)

8 lines abab.

For
FORUM
EXPRESS IT IN EIGHT  Open in new Window. (13+)
Poetry-sharing Activity for expression and entertainment!
#2232169 by Solace.Bring Author IconMail Icon


July 9, 2022 at 7:54pm
July 9, 2022 at 7:54pm
#1034950
Well-worn copper

Lincoln never visited Denver, a mob-ruled town
where "a man's life is of no more worth than a dog's".
Now I gaze at his worn face minted in 1999,
stamped with a D.

But not D for Dad who died in 1999
when this coin was a shiny copper.
And not dust as surely both now are,
as surely as I will be some day.

How can a penny be worth so little
when once as a child I counted every one.

© Copyright 2022 Kåre Enga [179.43] (6.juli.2022)


10 lines

* Quote is from William Hepworth Dixon

May enter into "Shadows and Light Poetry ContestOpen in new Window.

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/982524-Laura-del-Campo/month/7-1-2022