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 |
Making Golf Greens Great Again You're fired, he pointed to yellow flowers. Off with your heads, he said. I'm riding the mower to lop off losers; gone for a spin, he said. Golf greens look great on an even level; weeds will be vanquished, he said. Flowers are evil, a blot, and female, harshing my mellow, he said. Green grass is loyal, a sober carpet; flatters my hair, he said. Don raced his mower to carve his motto: Making Golf Greens Great Again! © Kåre Enga (9.may.2017) [174.79] Written on the day POTUS Trump fires FBI Comey. 80,931 |
Disconnections In a time when animals are mere displays, cartoons or meat, where lies the disconnection and at what cost. Even the man who butchers dogs for meat has one as a pet. What has he found that we have lost. In the concrete jungles only rats and rats with wings hurry about. Zoos and gardens remind us food isn't made at the corner store. How to reconnect with what we overlord. I sit with my geraniums, count each blossom, walk paths inhaling fragrance, hail each cat, pet each dog. © Kåre Enga (3.may.2017) [174.67] |