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 |
Cold, cold May, revenge for a day over 80, damp, as if it hasn't rained, as if the river doesn't rage, as if we need to bathe. It has. It does. We don't. But the cuddle of a coffee-shop, warm, steaming from a cup, soothes our gloomy forecast. ...And then we step outside. As sunshine glistens off wet pavement, I search for the stolen rainbow. © Kåre Enga [174.77] (8.amy.2017) Last two lines posted at facebook today. Based on a dreary May 7th. 80.925 |
Gigglefest They sit at the back booth, ... it's like ... you know ... everything is funny. I'd ask whose dog has died but they'd just laugh some more. It's time for giggles. And nothing ... nothing ... will harsh their mellow. © Kåre Enga [174.74] (7.mai.2017) at Liquid Planet. |
Tuliptime Meet me where the road ends in some abandoned meadow. Greet me by a gravel path strewn with golds and yellows. Sing of nature's bounty, of lilacs, iris, willow. Bring me red bouquets, dear. It's tulip ... time ... to mellow. © Kåre Enga [174.75] (7.mayo.2017) |