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 |
[untitled fragment of a song] If when in France, I sing and dance and Merry, she'll dance with me, we'll sweep the floor, go out the door, and merry we both shall be. In London, Toronto, in Lisbon and Oslo, we'll jiggle and wiggle and bounce. In Bergen or Bali, in Belfast or Bolly- wood pirouette, giggle and flounce. ... ... © Kåre Enga (28.mai.2017) [174.108] Note: midnight is a cruel hour to have to get up and take down notes before forgetting them! Will need refinement and maybe another verse or two. But these two stanzas establish the rhythm. (Lines 1 and 3: 4 meters, with 8 iambic beats; lines 5 and 7 with 4 meters but 12 beats. A musician would correct me, I'm sure.) |
To a social-psychopath I changed my number, changed my address, scrambled my name and switched my sex. I'm under witness protection until you rot. So sad... for once we were friends, but now we're not. © Kåre Enga (29.mai.2017) [174.111] |