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 |
A certain sense of purple After the death of winter, I get on my knees to smell the hyacinths, then sit at a table where chocolate, and a bouquet of lilacs, entices me. Unless I'm sipping tea, avoiding the zenith's blast, while spent jacaranda flowers flutter, floating in a tropical breeze. Come autumn's harvest, you'll find me soaking in a bath, enveloped by the fragrance of lavender soothing tired bones. Yet, the haze of twilight after dusk summons me to travel among the stars, like the shadow of a snow drift, a shade more somber than blue. What then becomes me? I do not wrap myself in robes of royal hue. A hug will be enough... as long as it comes from you. © Kåre Enga (31.juli.2024) 20 lines responding to the prompt 'purple'. For "Merit Badge Magic" July 2024 |