View allAll Photos Tagged Poetry
this is just one of a bazillion beautiful scenes to behold at The Flower of Scotland. Read about it here on The SLuggle.
the title of the picture I thought should come from Scotland's Robert Burns, and it's from a lovely love poem called Composed in August which you can find here.
For all lovely Details please read below ♥
S C E N E
Pergola Set
[Figure 8] Vineyard Set @ FaMESHed X
• [Figure 8] Vineyard Pergola
• [Figure 8] Vineyard Daybed
• [Figure 8] Vineyard Planter
• [Figure 8] Vineyard Chandelier Medium Chain
• [Figure 8] Vineyard Table Items
Poetry Set from
• Pitaya - Poerty - SideTable w fabric WOOD
• Pitaya - Poerty - Ceramic vase
• Pitaya - Poerty - Flower vase YELLOW
• Pitaya - Poerty - Old Books
• Pitaya - Poerty - Little tree
Other Items
• HPMD* WildGrasses -green- b
• HPMD* Shrub02 - green a
• *alirium* DwarfForest [OldGold]
“I inhale loneliness like it is the sweet smell of virgin earth conquered by fiery rain drops. Within me, I'm a thousand others.
~Faraaz Kazi
I took this at Pitt Addington Marsh on our walk in the rain....you can see the raindrops in the water here.
Poetry at Belvedere CF016573
Union of 5 shots Blending mode
Hello everyone,
Thank you so much for your visit and support ..
All Right Reserved. Pictures can not be used without explicit permission by the creator Fabrizio Massetti
some frostkissed autumn colours.
"Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay."
-Jack Frost
HSS, all!
His horse he saddled and bridled,
And into the night rode he,
Now through the great black woodland,
Now by the white-beached sea.
From “The changeling” by John Greenleaf Whittier
When ever I see these bloom I am transported to a world far from here, Yesterday at the water garden nursery the Lotus were in perfect form, cloudy sky but it did not made any difference, as you see they were brilliant!
He wrote like he spoke, he spoke like he wrote. Broken
poetry, page after page, day after day. See him standing
now at the window, reading the clouds for signs of
the homeless gods who taught him how to speak,
how to write, how to house them between the lines.
THE POET - KHOP.
Captured in Portland's Irvington neighborhood for Looking close... on Friday! theme: Wise Words. HLCoF everyone!
Song: www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y0ORhLyJWuc&list=RDY0ORhLyJWu...
♫ Flowers in hand, waiting for me
Every word in poetry
Won't call me by name, only "baby"
The more that you give, the less that I need
Everyone says I look happy
When it feels right
I know that you're wrong for me
Gonna wish we never met on the day I leave
I brought you down to your knees
'Cause they say that misery loves company
It's not your fault I ruin everything
And it's not your fault I can't be what you need
Baby, angels like you can't fly down hell with me
I'm everything they said I would be♫
When evening shadows fall,
She hangs her cares away
Like empty garments on the wall
That hides her from the day;
And while old memories throng,
And vanished voices call,
She lifts her grateful heart in song
When evening shadows fall.
James Whitcomb Riley
Lisboa, 2017
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Trying To Understand - teresabcoelho.blogspot.gr/?view=snapshot</a
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Twitter twitter.com/teresabcoelho1
HMMM 😊😊😍
"motion"
With heartfelt and genuine thanks for your kind visit. Have a wonderful and beautiful day, be well, keep your eyes open, appreciate the beauty surrounding you, enjoy creating, stay safe and laugh often! ❤️❤️❤️
With heartfelt and genuine thanks for your kind visit. Have a wonderful and beautiful day, be well, keep your eyes open, appreciate the beauty surrounding you, enjoy creating, stay safe and laugh often! ❤️❤️❤️
And it was at that age... Poetry arrived
in search of me. I don’t know, I don’t know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don’t know how or when,
no, they were not voices, they were not
words, nor silence,
but from a street I was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among violent fires
or returning alone,
there I was without a face
and it touched me.
(Pablo Neruda)
(A big thanks to my dear friend Soul for letting me shoot him)
“The poetry of the earth is never dead.” -John Keats
I’ve learned to cherish wilderness, which wasn’t always the case. Growing up around it made me take it for granted. Now, I realize how much a life outdoors is a life well lived. I always feel better after getting a dose of nature.
The last day of summer was a perfect, mild day in the low 70’s. Autumn announced itself with gusto, dropping the temps to the 50’s the next day. Quite the entrance!
"Art Week Gallery Group"
~~~ VIVID ABSTRACTS ~~~
Thank you for your kind visit. Have a wonderful and beautiful day! ❤️❤️❤️
Great Egret - - - - - - ( Ardea alba, a.k.a. Casmerodius albus )
Headed for "home," I guess.
Over Lake Emerald, in Oakland Park, Florida -US- near Fort Lauderdale.
Shot from my balcony over the lake, Friday afternoon, August 31, 2007.
See her LARGER, if you wish.
See WHERE. ( When map appears, click "Hybrid" and "+" sign for best map view.)