How I met my best friend

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I was six, she was five, “you’re it!”
Played all day, messed around
Been best friends we have to admit
Both happy to have found
When we’re not on the same country
Separated by sea
We are so thrill
Best friends still
When we meet we are full of glee
Have other friends throughout my life
They came and then we part
We get on but sometimes strife
We are friends in our heart
We don’t have to see each other
We are there for one another
Support each one
And have some fun
Lots of adventure and banter
My friends who pass the test of time
Friends who are here in my lifetime
We love dancing

(c) ladyleemanila 2017

For: Joelle’s tales: First Thursday of the month #TMAT120 #writing #prompt for June , Nurt Thurs – Your One Belief

tmat120

The peace of wild things by Wendell Berry

When despair grows in me
and I wake in the middle of the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting for their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

 

For: Nurt Thurs – Our Challenge

THURSDAY’S SPECIAL: TRACES OF THE PAST Y3-05

Four years ago, I went on a tour with my friend in college. I flew to her place and together we joined the tour. Güngor was our tourist guide and he was a very good guide. We started in Antalya, travelled to Cappadocia, then other parts of Turkey and back to Antalya after a week. The rest of the group stayed there for another week for their sea/beach holiday. The holiday was a success!

smiley rock
smiley rock
rock castle
rock castle
fairy chimneys
fairy chimneys
the love valley
the love valley
the charm of Cappadocia
the charm of Cappadocia
three boys
three boys
yabbadabadoo...
yabbadabadoo…

Other “traces of the past/heritage”:

For: THURSDAY’S SPECIAL: TRACES OF THE PAST Y3-05, Heritage – Photo Challenge, Nurt Thurs – State of Mind, Skywatch Friday – 18 May 2017 Edition , framed… , #MySundayPhoto – Hyde Park, ALL SEASONS – LIGHT and AIRY (May 21), Getting Older Does NOT Suck (Sundays In My City), Jo’s Monday walk : Sitio das Fontes

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Soil poetics

The soil that I call home
I come back even when I roam
Ancestors fought for us
What we have is a plus
So we could all be free
Relish the soil that is bounty
Blood and sweat were sacrificed
What we have now is our prize
My parents tilled the soil for us
So we could all enjoy Christmas
To rear us well in this wide world
So we could all swirled and whirled
In return we burn the midnight oil
We know our role, we’re not spoiled
To have good grades and later jobs
Our freedom no one can rob

(c) ladyleemanila 2017

For: Soil poetics by Björn Rudberg (brudberg) , Nurt Thurs – Message for You

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To Mother by Marina Tsvetaeva

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In the old Strauss waltz for the first time
We had listened to your quiet call,
Since then all the living things are alien
And the knocking of the clock consoles.

We, like you, are gladly greeting sunsets,
And are drunk on nearness of the end.
All, with which on better nights we’re wealthy
Is put in the hearts by your own hand.

Bowing to a child’s dreams with no tire.
(Only crescent looked in them indeed
Without you)! You have led your kids past
Bitter lifetime of the thoughts and deeds.

From the early age the sad one’s close to us,
Laughter bores and home we left behind..
Our ship not in good times left the harbor
And it sails by will of every wind!

Azure isle of childhood is paling,
On the deck of ship we stand alone.
It appears, oh mother, to your daughters
You’ve left an inheritance of woe.

For: Nurturing Thurs – Your People

If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda

If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda

sunrise

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine

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For: Nurt Thurs – 4-6-2017