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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/982524-Laura-del-Campo/day/4-24-2017
Rated: 13+ · Book · Personal · #982524
Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation.
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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:

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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.
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Thanks for being my friend.

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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
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 Kåre *Leaf5* Enga
~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go.
~ Elizabeth Bishop,
The Fish
April 24, 2017 at 5:29pm
April 24, 2017 at 5:29pm
#909794
Making rösti

I grab a potato, before morning breaks,
try not to draw blood as I peel it's skin
careful of fingers, I grate to the end,
I must work quickly, before you awake.
I add garlic, parsley, add a pinch more.
I cry over onions, stir in a yolk,
remember our fight, harsh words I misspoke,
then fry to a crisp, pancakes you adore.
I go to our bedside, breakfast on a tray,
orange juice and coffee to brighten your day.
Before I awake you I sit down and sketch
your splotched wrinkled skin, inhale morning's breath.
You snore beautifully, what more can I say?
Before dawn's light, I made rösti today.

© Kå re Enga (24.abril.2017) [174.47]

Rösti = Swiss potato pancakes
Dew Drop Inn #23... write a sonnet they said... *RollEyes*

Earlier version:

I grab a potato, before morning breaks,
try not to draw blood as I peel it's skin
careful of fingers, I grate to the end,
I must work quickly, before you awake.
I add garlic, parsley, add a pinch more.
I cry over onions, stir in a yolk,
remember our fight, harsh words I misspoke.
I fry to a crisp, pancakes you adore.
I go to our bedside, breakfast on a tray,
orange juice and coffee to brighten your day.
Before I awake you I sit down and sketch
splotchy wrinkled skin; inhale morning's breath.
You snore beautifully, what more can I say?
Before dawn's light, I made rösti today.

April 24, 2017 at 3:53pm
April 24, 2017 at 3:53pm
#909790
Blood moon rising

Smoke of sedition; grey pall falling;
fire of perdition; Blood Moon rising.


We huddle in darkness; thunder rumbles.
Brightness of a slash renders all asunder.
What have You wrought, we cry out to clouds.
Cracks a response: you've done this to yourselves.

Smoke of sedition; grey pall falling;
fire of perdition; Blood Moon rising.


Valleys cleave in two as both sides quiver,
gaze across the gap, for once we were one.
Earth begins to crumble; we flee deepened chasms
widening between us. Too late, we have lost.

Smoke of sedition; grey pall falling;
fire of perdition; Blood Moon rising.


© Kåre Enga (23.april.2017) [174.46]

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/982524-Laura-del-Campo/day/4-24-2017