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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 |
Merry Mary, Quite Contrary She waters her garden — where she's planted her ex midst pansies, white daisies, belladonna, bluets. She'd sighed — do you love me — as they kissed one last time. Now she's planted his bones 'neath fresh compost and lime. Oh Mare, art thou merry — or merely insane? Oh Merry Contrary — Oh Mary McCain! You surely must know that they'll soon find you out when the neighbor's old dog sniffs his flesh with his snout. You'll make up a story how he left you betrayed but those selfies will sing of the bed that you made. Oh Mare, art thou merry — or merely insane? Oh Merry Contrary — Oh Mary McCain! © Kåre Enga [181.38] (8.juli.2024) Lyric response to "The One-Line Lyric Challenge" ![]() 112.563 |