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 LV COMMENTS! 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 Enga ~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go. ~ Elizabeth Bishop, The Fish |
Hidden "Once I had a secret love..." sing it, Doris Day! Read like an open book worn on my vested chest. "Do not look", I say. Sad jest. There is no love in living, not even hate. Yet, Death, the Messenger of Joy, must wait. I give. I take. I give again. So not one of those Three Wise Men. Read my pages torn and ragged: no knights, no princes, no green dragon. Look in my eyes, just me looking sad I hide my joy. No, I'm not mad. What do you want? What can I give? Says not-even-one-of-those Wise Men. © Kåre Enga [174.30] (13.April.2017) |