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 |
Going commando Time to do a wash when underwear stands at attention... all by itself. But... too much to do, just put on some pants, no one will notice. On a dry mild day, there's little sweat, and the pants need a wash anyways. Off then, to the farmer's market to grab some tomato plants, cheese curd, soap and jams, a pulled-pork sandwich calls by name. Bend over to pick up a napkin. Careful. Oops. That's when seams tear, zippers break, when reminded by stares... that "someone" has gone commando. © Kåre Enga (6.mayo.2017) [174.71] /PPRT#36/ Not-wearing underwear... going commando 80,907 |
After oolong tea Semi-fermented, you lie there, curly dark halo askew, your skin glowing a golden brown hue. Was it the tea? You sipped it slowly, savoring the fragrance of Tainan, the smog of Taipei dissipating, like steam from a kettle. Or was it me? As I slipped my fingers over your belly, rubbing oil into each stray thought, banishing ennui with firm but gentle strokes. Now you lie there glowing with a golden hue I wish would curl around me like a halo. © Kåre Enga (5.mayo.2017) [174.70] /PPRT#37/ Read a package. I chose Ten Ren oolong tea. |