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Thursday, Nov. 21, 2024

10:30am EST

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L'aura del Campo

by Kåre เลียม Enga

Rated: 13+ · Book · Personal · #982524

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 ♣

Higgins Street Bridge, April 25th 2009, Missoula, Montana

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:

Gifts from NOVAcatmando

kiyasama alfred booth, wanbli ska

ransomme Iowegian Skye

IN MEMORIUM

VerySara

passed away November 12, 2005

Please visit her port to read her poems and her writings.
More suggested links:

A jayhawk with an attitude poses in front of the Alumni Center among the crabapple trees.

A jayhawk with an attitude poses in front of the Alumni Center among the crabapple trees.

These pictures rotate.

Kåre Enga
~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go.
~ Elizabeth Bishop,
The Fish

Show Recent Comments

10 Most Recent Blog Comments:

Kåre เลียม Enga

Sep 6, 2024 at 10:49am
In response to "Too slow or too swift? "

Leger~ I just wanted to write something... but in re-reading this it touches on some truths. IRL we are very different and it did work out in many ways. Just not like expected.

One added note. I don't have to like a prompt to be able to write to it.

2 Like

Leger~

Sep 6, 2024 at 10:36am
In response to "Too slow or too swift? "

Nice depiction of regrets.
Going back to the year, the month, even the day you made that choice probably wouldn't change the outcome.
I try to be selective and remember the happy moments and leave the regrets in the past.
Be well

1 Like

Kåre เลียม Enga

Sep 4, 2024 at 11:06pm
In response to "Too slow or too swift? "

Wordsmitty ✍️ I wrote this before noticing The Cramp's prompts whilst listening to the song. Didn't like either, so imho, nothing lost. I suspect I didn't burn bridges but even bridges need maintenance and sometimes the road ends on the other side or goes nowhere. I cherish what I learned.

1 Like

Wordsmitty ✍️

Sep 4, 2024 at 10:56pm
In response to "Too slow or too swift? "

Very nice. It's good to hold onto those feelings, but don't let the what-ifs become obsessive. Look forward but be glad for what was. (I didn't listen to the song, but would that matter?)

1 Like

This comment is attached to a private entry, so it is not available.

Joy

Apr 10, 2024 at 11:18am
In response to "Double Espresso, please! [181.8]"

Yessss! Me three! Off to "charcoal thoughts."

Katya the Poet

Apr 9, 2024 at 9:23pm
In response to "Double Espresso, please! [181.8]"

This certainly cheered me up! I hope it did the same for you.

winklett

Apr 9, 2024 at 8:52am
In response to "Double Espresso, please! [181.8]"

I relate -- and appreciate the reminder to let sunshine save me!

1 Like

Kåre เลียม Enga

Apr 3, 2024 at 12:02am
In response to "Snow day [181.3]"

huser:Katya} Joy Rhyssa winklett

It needs tweeking. Short lines can be a headache; little room for maneuvering. It's got a cadence, so; yes, it could be a song. The 'conflict' is ending on one long sad fading note. I'm conflicted as to what I do next.

1 Like

winklett

Apr 2, 2024 at 10:47am
In response to "Snow day [181.3]"

So much pain conveyed, effectively with such sharp short lines. Nice.

November 10, 2024 at 12:49pm

#1079766

Harrumphed (nonsense verse)

Harrumphed

Splatched spadgecocks twitched
with glitched goldbricks!
Imma
coughing coffined dwarf
inna
fraught gnostic Bronx,
aghast, stretched, betwixt
staged acts on da Pnyx.

Harrumph? Why not Knox?

© Kåre Enga (9.november.2024)

Like • Comment

November 3, 2024 at 3:44pm

#1079450

There comes a softening to the brain... (memories)

There comes a softening to the brain...

...and to the memories stored —
most forgotten, the painful lost,
a blessing time to bid goodbye,
let go, move on, become as one.

...for there were sunflowers —
and an old windmill,
it's blades still churning,
faces forever turning to the sun.

© Kåre Enga (3.november.2024)

1 Like • Comment

© Copyright 2024 Kåre เลียม Enga (UN: enga at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Kåre เลียม Enga has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

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