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Lost In dream, in the mist
Where sweet lips are slowly kissed
What is waiting, what will you find
In the mist, deep behind
Under the naked Winter trees
Where wild sin, blows in the breeze
Skin exposed, lips are kissed
Dreams are found, deep in the mist
A host of golden daffodils
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
William Wordsworth
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Flow sweet water , flow on me
Fill my heart and set me free
Wash my skin, until it does shine
Until it tastes of loves pure wine
That does flow upon my face
Between your walls , it does race
Until it wets my fingertips
Covers my tongue, soaks my lips
As your wetness, sets me free
As your sweet water, flows on me
A Grey Heron (Ardea cinerea) was crossing a long stretch of waterbody with beautiful manoeuvring moves. The classy part of the image is the sweet reflection of the bird with wings in two half circles making it a beautiful circular loop. Pics was taken during an early morning in Bharatpur, Rajasthan, India.
La poésie est une chose aussi précise que la géométrie.
Gustave Flaubert
Poetry is as precise a thing as geometry
Montréal, QC
It is only when we are aware of the earth and of the earth as poetry that we truly live.
-Henry Beston
She thought by making this face it would deter me from taking her picture. What she DIDN'T realize was I look forward to my subjects doing exactly this: expressing themselves!
Ten years ago: www.flickr.com/photos/31246066@N04/9123398248
Happy Monochrome Monday, everyone!
Rising tall in the mist
Where their branches, they are kissed
Where the fog , it does fall
On the heads of the birds that call
Out a lullaby in the mist
As their wings are slowly kissed
On the tree, that now does stand
Beautifully in the mist filled land
"The poem . . . is a little myth of man's capacity of making life meaningful. And in the end, the poem is not a thing we see it is, rather, a light by which we may see and what we see is life."
Robert Penn Warren
The blur and distortion match the "groupspeech" of the world I live in which is blurred and distorted along with any right of reply. The framing is also intentional to reflect the marginalisation of the common "man".
Every child born is an equal inheritor of Planet Earth whatever "they" try to tell you to the contrary to shape and mould you to stop you from being all you can be, The freedom to hold and express own's own individual thoughts is a core part of one's identity. Tame that en masse and you clip the wings of the masses.
Heading to the tower of love
That does rise, high above
Wrapped in a coat of mist
Where sweet lips will be kissed
Where soft skin , i will feel
As under the tower, you do kneel
In the mist, that does rule above
The tower of mist, the tower of love
A Chestnut-tailed Minla (Actinodura strigula) was scanning for food inside bushes with a cute look. After waiting for long it came out from the bush for a moment and I was fortunate to frame this agile bird. Pics was taken from Great Himalayan National Park in Uttarakhand, India.
The clouds were amazing that day. No popcorn shaps but more as if somone had started painting them and left for lunch before finishing his job.
Follow the trees, follow the fences
Let me remove your defences
Let me walk, across your green
Where natural beauty, it is seen
Between your trees and far away
Where i want to walk today
Where i do lay my head
In your wild and untamed bed
As love blows on the breeze
I'll meet you soon, between your trees
Watching you, watching me
In the field, as i see
Many feet of white on green
As Autumn trees they are seen
Reaching up to touch the sky
As i see with my watching eye
Nature wild, nature sweet
That on the hill. i now meet
Place: Poetik velvets
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Picture was taken for the BOSL magazine june 09 issue Poetik SIM illustration.