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Fighting for Homeland
It's easier to gingle the bell
Today the box of donations is empty
Deo Gracias
Sail
Saint Domingos Church
Hold me!
Misty day
INQUEST
Ships sailing in the town
The windmill lost its grindstone
God Save the Queen
Letter Not To Be Sent
Smiles of a Winter Day
Prêt à Porter
TWENTY-FOUR YEARS
LOVING SMILE - 48
Nothing better than to close the Christmas Season…
Talking to a coffee
Lock
Mário Soares (1924-2017)
POEM (UN)DONE IN DUST - to Armando Taborda
Don't kiss me, please!
Light Cage
Mea culpa mea máxima culpa
BOAS FESTAS
LOVING SMILE - 47
Christmas Time
The Choir of the Intergerational University of Ben…
Undress yourself of all opulence
The residents of Benfica wish Merry Chrystmas to t…
"The Intrigue"
Tower clock without tower
Be careful, do not slip in the light!
Are we going to keep the warm souls?
Christmas Season Bazaar
The Christmas Season is open
Townhouse
There are no horses in the hippodrome
Not all cocks are flowers
Working day
The Kings of Nightfall
Loneliness
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THE RING
«We found it slipped
between the sheets», she said
as she handed me my
mother's engagement ring.
It had never left her finger
since her sailor beau had proposed
seventy seven years ago,
kissing her tide of red hair -
and I took the delicate band,
whittled thin with seventy years
of widowhood, and carried her
grief out into the rain.
by Denise BENNETT, in "POETRY NEWS", the newsletter of The Poetry Society, Spring 2014
(1st edition, 2014; 2nd edition, 2016)
between the sheets», she said
as she handed me my
mother's engagement ring.
It had never left her finger
since her sailor beau had proposed
seventy seven years ago,
kissing her tide of red hair -
and I took the delicate band,
whittled thin with seventy years
of widowhood, and carried her
grief out into the rain.
by Denise BENNETT, in "POETRY NEWS", the newsletter of The Poetry Society, Spring 2014
(1st edition, 2014; 2nd edition, 2016)
Malik Raoulda, Ulrich John, , .t.a.o.n. and 3 other people have particularly liked this photo
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memories for someone I am sure that has been moved to
write such words o0o
*
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit,
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.
But helpless pieces in the game He plays,
Upon this chequer-board of Nights and Days,
He hither and thither moves, and checks… and slays,
Then one by one, back in the Closet lays.
Omar Khayyám
*
Armando Taborda club has replied to beverleymany thanks for Omar's text
beverley has replied to Armando Taborda clubsometimes ... oOo
Armando Taborda club has replied to beverleybeverley has replied to Armando Taborda clubArmando Taborda club has replied to beverleyArmando Taborda club has replied to Ulrich John clubArmando Taborda club has replied to Malik Raoulda clubSign-in to write a comment.