View allAll Photos Tagged Sweet_Voice
O May, sweet-voiced one, going thus before,
Forever June may pour her warm red wine
Of life and passion, sweeter days are thine!
- Helen Hunt Jackson
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Thanks to all for 11,000.000+ views and kind comments ... !
Please don't use this image on websites, blogs or other media without my explicit permission. © All rights reserved
A Fabulous song by Susan Boyle, who has a very sweet voice.
You'd love this song.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_HO15k3vpPY
"Autumn leaves under frozen souls,
Hungry hands turning soft and old,
My hero cried as we stood out there in the cold,
Like these autumn leaves I don't have nothing to hold.
Handsome smile, wearing handsome shoes,
Too young to say, though I swear he knew,
And I hear him singing while he sits there in his chair,
While these autumn leaves float around everywhere.
And I look at you, and I see me,
Making noise so restlessly,
But now it's quiet and I can hear you sing,
'My little fish don't cry, my little fish don't cry.'
Autumn leaves have faded now,
That smile I lost, well I've found somehow,
Because you still live on in my father's eyes,
These autumn leaves, all these autumn leave, all these autumn leaves are yours tonight.
Mmmmmmm..."
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Dati Tecnici
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a) Contax G2 + Carl Zeiss x Contax G2 Sonnar T* 90mm f.2,8 + Filtro Contax UV;
b) Tempo 1/160s con apertura f.5,6 +1 e 1/3 stop;
c) Lettura Esposimetrica con Gossen Lunalite (Effettuate quattro letture a Luce Incidente una sulla parte centrale della scena, una sul viso del bimbo vicino il mento, la mano e la maglia, la terza sui capelli (la zona intermedia fra la parte più scura e quella più chiara), la quarta lettura fra i due bracci del bambino e della persona adulta. La sommatoria è stata confrontata con la lettura data dall’esposimetro della macchina effettuando la media aumentando di 1 e 1/3 si stop l’esposizione;
d) Negativo Agfa Agfapan APX 100 Asa esposta a 200 Asa;
e) Scansione con Agfa Duoscan T2500 Pro con porta (SCSI);
f) Prima Post-Produzione Corel Photo-Paint X7(64Bit) e Adobe Photoshop CS6(64Bit);
g) Post-Produzione di completamento con Nikon Capture NX 2.
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Tutti i diritti riservati © 2026/2036 da ArchiMlFotoWord/Luigi Mirto/Photography
Nessuna immagine o parte di essa può essere riprodotta o trasmessa in qualsiasi forma e con qualsiasi mezzo senza preventiva autorizzazione.
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All rights reserved © 2026/2036 by ArchiMlFotoWord/Luigi Mirto/Photography
No images or part thereof may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior permission
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Suggerisco di guardare l’immagine su fondo scuro e ascoltare questo brano
I suggest looking at the image on a dark background and listening to this song
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Mari Samuelsen – Timelapse - Intervallo di tempo
www.youtube.com/watch?v=D3PDoxrsE48
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“Le note del cuore”
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in solitudine,
mi chiudo
nel mio triste tormento
sono soltanto io e
il doloroso pianto.
Mi rannicchio
chiudo gli occhi e
col pensiero sogno
di esser cullato
in un tenero abbraccio.
Sento da lontano,
negli echi silenziosi
della fredda notte buia,
una dolce voce che
canta una ninna nanna
che non ho mai avuto.
I miei occhi bagnano
le mie scarne guance
sciupate dal dolore
e con un nodo in gola
lentamente mi addormento
in questa gelida scatola di cartone
che mi protegge dal freddo della notte..
Perché il mio cuore
non smette
ancora di patire,
penso e ripenso a te,
mia dolce mamma,
perché non ci sei
perché mi hai….
abbandonato
Non mi hai più
voluto, ma io….
aspetto che ritorni,
anche in sogno,
a salvarmi dall’unica
mia speranza,
prima che arrivi a….
portarmi via
la “morte”.
……………Luigi Mirto
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"The notes of the heart"
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In solitude,
I shut myself in
in my sad torment
it's just me and
the painful crying.
I curl up
close my eyes and
dream in my mind
of being cradled
in a tender embrace.
I hear from afar,
in the silent echoes
of the cold, dark night,
a sweet voice
singing a lullaby
that I've never had.
My eyes bathe
my gaunt cheeks
ravaged by pain
and with a lump in my throat
I slowly fall asleep
in this icy cardboard box
that protects me from the cold of the night.
Because my heart
still doesn't stop
paining,
I think and think of you,
my sweet mother,
why aren't you here,
why have you...
abandoned me?
You no longer
wanted me, but I...
I wait for him to return,
even in my dreams,
to save me from my only
hope,
before he comes to...
take away
"death."
……………Luigi Mirto.
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Italiano
Immagine tratta dal Racconto Reportage ”Volti e Usanze della gente Siciliana”
”Un racconto reportage che è stato effettuato nei paesi, borgate, casolari e contrade nell’entroterra Siciliana allo scopo di far conoscere le usanze, i modi, le attività sociali e culturali, della bellissima Sicilia”
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English
Image from the story Reportage ”Faces and Customs of the people of Sicily"
"A narrative report that was made in the villages, hamlets, farmhouses and inland districts of Sicily in order to know the customs, manners, social and cultural activities, beautiful Sicily"
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Luigi Mirto/ArchiMlFotoWord's most interesting photos on Flickriver
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Strings by Cica Ghost, Luna Isle
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Luna%20Isle/87/201/31
A Cellist’s Cello, Poem by Katherine Scogin
“Her soft expressions forever changing,
As the leaves of autumn do.
A sweet voice forever crooning,
Under a favorable moon.
Smooth, polished, delicate to my taste,
Her soul confident of the notes that shall be found.
Enjoy her splendor this nightly morn,
For when dawn arrives,
This sainted music may have gone.”
Music: “The Chairman’s Waltz” from Memoirs Of A Geisha movie soundtrack. Yo-Yo Ma (cello solo) and Itzhak Perlman (violin solo) written by John Williams.
taken @ maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Whimberly/215/117/32
The cock crows,
The sun rises,
I watch and wait patiently.
The day gets warmer,
Yet, I still wait.
I listen whilst I sit by the phone.
I hear every voice on the outside
Sounding like yours.
I hear every voice, even within me,
But that sweet voice doesn't soothe me.
I wait, but you never call.
I ask myself,
"Do I wait in vain? "
I wait because of that
Emptiness I feel;
It's present when you're not here.
The sun is now gone,
The beautiful white clouds
Have only but disappeared.
But I wait ‘cause
I am empty without you.
The arrival of the first Western Meadowlark is a true sign of spring's arrival on the northern prairie. This wasn't the first meadowlark I saw this year, but the first I was able to get close to. Not only a pretty bird, but their song is among the sweetest, as anyone who has ever heard it will attest. One of my books describes it as "a series of bubbling, flutelike notes of variable length, usually accelerating toward the end."
Meadowlarks belong to the family Icteridae, which includes the blackbirds, grackles, cowbirds, and orioles, among others.
Photographed in Grasslands National Park, Saskatchewan (Canada). Don't use this image on websites, blogs, or other media without explicit permission ©2022 James R. Page - all rights reserved.
At Villa LaFrite, we like to hear the shower running and her sweet voice humming the evening's song. Sometimes, we sneak into the bathroom, and quietly watch her lather her perfect body in glistening foam. We love the way her skin plays with the droplets as they race down her shoulders, breasts and thighs. And we know that very soon she'll be gliding among us as we prepare for the night, leaving an unforgettable trail of lavender in the air.
A Studios Claris production. Check album here: flic.kr/s/aHsmVxZ9mw
When rose the eastern star
The birds came from a-far
In that full might of glory
With one melodious voice
They sweetly did rejoice
And sang the wondrous story
Sang, praising God on high
Enthroned above the sky
And his fair mother Mary
The eagle left his lair
Came winging through the air
His message loud arising
And to his joyous cry
The sparrow made reply
His answer sweetly voicing
"O'ercome are death and strife
This night is born new life"
The robin sang rejoicing
Ooooh...
When rose the eastern star
The birds came from a-far
An amazing small girl sings a Baul song and performs at the Kankalitala mandir complex near Prantik railway station in the district Birbhum, West Bengal, India. We were just mesmerized by her golden sweet voice.
So many talents go unnoticed in this world...
My rambling is here: avatarstyle.net/2015/04/26/ledas-rambling-angel-on-my-sho...
Just added a video you might like. The singer has such a sweet voice.
Beware of Hopping Jack, my friends. For he is not the Easter Bunny, he is truly a jackalope. If what you have is sweet, shiny and or sparkly be certain that he will take it all, for a true highwayman is he. And when he is through the last thing you shall hear is his sweet voice as he whispers, "Fast as fast can be, you'll never... catch... me." Then you blink, and he's gone...Happy Easter
I could still hear the music playing , it was a lady singing, she had a lovely sweet voice. I found out she is blind and collecting for A&E Hospital, Warwick, I admire her.
Jephson Gardens, Leamington Spa, Warwickshire.
Paseando por los jardines.
Jardines Jephson, Leamington Spa, Warwickshire.
In the twilight of sunset,
and, in a very fleeting shadow
your departure.
Dreams are lost
in the wind of your flight
and in verses describe
in the pages of poetry of the time.
Life passes quickly, quickly…
And, like everything in the late afternoon
portrays himself,
I travel in the sweet voice of thought,
on the threshold of sunset.
Ceiça Rocha Cruz
Just like the moon light through a split, you came in throught my pupils, and like that I started loving you, day by day. Without laws, without schedules. And like that you started to wake me up, from every dream where you appeared.
And no one was searching for it, and noone planned it like this, but in our destiny was set that you belonged to me. And noone would bet that I would be so happy, but cupid had mercy on me.
Like the rain in the middle of the desert, you wet my heart with faith, drawning my fears. Like a sweet voice in the silence, we fell in love, real love. ~Reyli Barba
Real Love (Amor del Bueno) -Youtube
Image: Crazy Bear
IT takes a heap o' livin' in a house t' make it home,
A heap o' sun an' shadder, an' ye sometimes have t' roam
Afore ye really 'preciate the things ye lef' behind,
An' hunger fer 'em somehow, with 'em allus on yer mind.
It don't make any differunce how rich ye get t' be,
How much yer chairs an' tables cost, how great yer luxury;
It ain't home t' ye, though it be the palace of a king,
Until somehow yer soul is sort o' wrapped round everything.
Home ain't a place that gold can buy or get up in a minute;
Afore it's home there's got t' be a heap o' livin' in it;
Within the walls there's got t' be some babies born, and then
Right there ye've got t' bring 'em up t' women good, an' men;
And gradjerly as time goes on, ye find ye wouldn't part
With anything they ever used -- they've grown into yer heart:
The old high chairs, the playthings, too, the little shoes they wore
Ye hoard; an' if ye could ye'd keep the thumb-marks on the door.
Ye've got t' weep t' make it home, ye've got t' sit an' sigh
An' watch beside a loved one's bed, an' know that Death is nigh;
An' in the stillness o' the night t' see Death's angel come,
An' close the eyes o' her that smiled, an' leave her sweet voice dumb.
Fer these are scenes that grip the heart, an'when yer tears are dried,
Ye find the home is dearer than it was, an' sanctified;
An' tuggin' at ye always are the pleasant memories
O' her that was an' is no more -- ye can't escape from these.
Ye've got t' sing an' dance fer years, ye've got t' romp an' play,
An' learn t' love the things ye have by usin' 'em each day;
Even the roses 'round the porch must blossom year by year
Afore they 'come a part o' ye, suggestin' someone dear
Who used t' love 'em long ago, an' trained 'em jes t' run
The way they do, so's they would get the early mornin' sun;
Ye've got t' love each brick an' stone from cellar up t' dome:
It takes a heap o' livin' in a house t' make it home.
Edgar Guest
i went up to the mountain
because You asked me to.
up over the clouds to where the sky was blue
i could see all around me .. everywhere
i could see all around me ... everywhere
sometimes i feel like
i've never been anything but tired
and i'll be working till the day i expire.
see, sometimes i lay down
but no more can i do.
so i go on again
because you asked me to
some days i look down
afraid ... afraid i will fall
and though the sun shines
i see nothing
at all
yet i hear your sweet voice
come and then go
come
and then go
you're telling me softly
you love me so
~ patty griffin
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Marvin, he was a friend of mine
And he could sing a song, his heart in every line
Marvin sang of the joy and pain
He opened up our minds, and I still can hear him say
"Aw talk to me, so you can see, what's going on"
Say you will sing your songs forevermore
Gonna be some sweet sounds coming down on the nightshift
I bet you're singing proud, oh I bet you'll pull a crowd
Gonna be a long night, it's gonna be all right, on the nightshift
You found another home, I know you're not alone on the nightshift
You found another home, I know you're not alone on the nightshift
Jackie, hey what you doing now?
It seems like yesterday when we were working out
Jackie, oh you set the world on fire
You came and gifted us, your love it lifted us higher and higher
Keep it up and we'll be there at your side
Oh, say you will sing your songs forevermore
Gonna be some sweet sounds coming down on the nightshift
I bet you're singing proud, oh I bet you'll pull a crowd
Gonna be a long night, it's gonna be all right on the nightshift
You found another home, I know you're not alone on the nightshift
Gonna be some sweet sounds, coming down on the nightshift
I bet you're singing proud, I bet you'll pull a crowd
Gonna be a long night, it's gonna be all right on the nightshift
You found another home, I know you're not alone on the nightshift
Gonna miss your sweet voice, that soulful noise on the nightshift
We all remember you, your songs are coming through
At the end of a long day, it's gonna be okay on the nightshift
You found another home, I know you're not alone on the nightshift
Gonna be some sweet sounds
Nightshift - Commodores
Link: www.youtube.com/watch?v=WMSbBg4_y54&list=RDWMSbBg4_y5...
Hi There!
An image from my Fall 2018 Archives:
I hope I never lose my hearing, because I usually find these cute American Goldfinches by their sweet voices. I've never seen one look quite so mottled, I presume he is molting?
I truly appreciate your views and comments, thank you! Have a marvelous day!
©Copyright - Nancy Clark - All Rights Reserved
“Veil after veil of thin dusky gauze is lifted, and by degrees the forms and colours of things are restored to them, and we watch the dawn remaking the world in its antique pattern.”
― Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray
Soundtrack : www.youtube.com/watch?v=mQ7Lg0mg-ro
LES HOMMES DISENT PEU by ALEX NEVSKY
THE PHOENIX
I finally understood the words you said to me
so I watched him from a distance
and then I watched myself in the space between
and what I saw changed the way I felt
trapped so tightly within that surreal scene
I was released and a part of me was irrevocably gone
irretrievable; unachievable; it brought me to my knees
two hearts beating; one heart cheating
no chance now to beat as one
what is love without him by me
chasing rainbows that exist only in dreams
until the sun burns all the flowers and scorches the earth
I will never understand all that it means
Les hommes disent peu; the men they say little
they come in silence and leave without saying goodbye
and while they are with me they say all they need to
which is not very much, but they whisper words quietly
until the darkness and time carries them away
like clouds in the sky blown by winds that travel the earth
they are gentle like feathers that weave in my dreams
and comfort my nights with meaningless things
and notes that they stick to my mirror like dust
particles and paper airplanes; like angels that swirl
and crash to the earth when their wings have been broken
and no-one has heard when they speak in the darkness
because no-one is expecting to hear their sweet voices
don't we hear what we want to hear and disregard everything else
so we read between lines and make up the rest
if only we read the actual words written
we might stand a chance
to understand that he never promises
to save the last dance
don't give me songs to sing to you late in the night
give me something to sing about to justify this fight
the struggle within me; the passion that burns
carries on burning; the flames still ignite
the embers glow fiercely; the heat just below
the surface that protects me
where only the moon knows
carry me sweet dreams to the land where I can be
the person who finds love; whom love can set free.
Until then my heart white and drained of all blood
waits like the phoenix to rise from the flood
and the ashes left over from my burning desire
will ignite deep within me and set me on fire
- AP – Copyright remains with the author
'copyright image please do not reproduce without permission'
My artwork is a compilation of 6 of my photographs
Dear friends, this is my last posting for a little while. I am very tired and need to rest, so that I stand a better chance of recovery from my illness. I will be popping in to look at your photos and I want to thank all of you for your continued support, love and friendship that you give me. It encourages me and gives me a reason to get out of bed every day. I hope you will all stay with me. Take care and love to you all x
OF Neptune's empire let us sing,
At whose command the waves obey;
To whom the rivers tribute pay,
Down the high mountains sliding:
To whom the scaly nation yields
Homage for the crystal fields
Wherein they dwell:
And every sea-dog pays a gem
Yearly out of his wat'ry cell
To deck great Neptune's diadem.
The Tritons dancing in a ring
Before his palace gates do make
The water with their echoes quake,
Like the great thunder sounding:
The sea-nymphs chant their accents shrill,
And the sirens, taught to kill
With their sweet voice,
Make ev'ry echoing rock reply
Unto their gentle murmuring noise
The praise of Neptune's empery.
[Thomas Campion's thought on Poseidon]
the mighty Neptune in Piazza Signoria, Florence
textures= mine+topaz+Marieza57
Obrigada for:
www.flickr.com/photos/mareziapics/28508725654/in/dateposted/
I dialed a number
and guess what?
It was you
but I swear
I choose at random
Three rings came and went
then the dial tone sounded
and here I am,
just about to hang up
When I hear,
your sweet voice!! .
Iain Matthews and Ad van der Veen playing together with Kersten de Ligny sweet voice making it all a perfect harmony
There was a roaring in the wind all night;
The rain came heavily and fell in floods;
But now the sun is rising calm and bright;
The birds are singing in the distant woods;
Over his own sweet voice the Stock-dove broods;
The Jay makes answer as the Magpie chatters;
And all the air is filled with pleasant noise of waters.
All things that love the sun are out of doors;
The sky rejoices in the morning's birth;
The grass is bright with rain-drops;—on the moors
The hare is running races in her mirth;
And with her feet she from the plashy earth
Raises a mist, that, glittering in the sun,
Runs with her all the way, wherever she doth run.
Last evening, after the sunset, there was a tiny knock at the door. Not even a knock, maybe a small click, like the touch of tiny hands. Normally I would think that it was a dry leaf blown by the wind, touching the door. But I somehow got up and opened the door. Never was I so glad that I decided to do something! There she was, looking up to me with the loveliest aqua blue eyes.
"S... Su..?" I stammered. "Sunny," she said. Oh, what a sweet voice! So I knew her name somewhere deep inside. "Don't tell me" she continued, "is it summer already?" "Almost," I replied. "Oh, I came a long way... It was still winter when I set off, so..."
I felt I knew her from a very long time ago, but...can't quite remember where and when. So I guess we have a story to reveal now. I hope Sunny helps me ^__^
And, don't worry my dearest Sunny, we'll find the cutest summer clothes for you to wear ^__^
PS: I don't know how long it has been since I first wanted a JerryBerry. I've been in love with them since ages, practically since the first one was introduced. I have no idea why I did not adopt one until today. I was planning to get a Penny girl, but I suddenly spotted this cutie on Ebay. Knocking on Winter's Door was one of my favorite limited editions and I knew the time has come.
And if it wasn't for you, dear TutuBella, perhaps I would never have discovered this bliss. You urged me to follow my dream with your amazing photos from another world. I'm so glad to have discovered your girls. Thank you <333
(The last PS: Sunny Came Home (by Shawn Colvin) was a song that I loved so much. After so many years, I kept finding myself humming it all the time. It started a few weeks ago and then she came. When I met this sweet girl, I knew her name was Sunny. It just had to be...)
A new Earth and new Heaven,
Undreamt of by the sensual and the proud—
Joy is the sweet voice, Joy the luminous cloud—
We in ourselves rejoice!
And thence flows all that charms or ear or sight,
All melodies the echoes of that voice,
All colours a suffusion from that light.
From Dejection: An Ode by Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772 - 1834)
Squirrel Cuckoo
Scientific name: Piaya cayana (Linnaeus, 1766)
Portuguese: Alma de gato
View all my photos here: www.fluidr.com/photos/hmancuso
The Mermaid
The wind had dropped, the sails had sagged on the mast; in the night just lit by the new moon the ship was rocking slightly on the black mirror of the water, when the siren sang.
The sailors seemed to hear a rustling sound like a light breeze; then like music rising from the deep sea; then like a very sweet voice, never heard before; and finally the song drew them one by one into a sleep without awakening.
In fact, when the sailors were asleep, the Mermaid climbed onto the ship, touched them one after the other with her deadly hand, and all of them, without realizing it, passed, dreaming, from sleep to death.
La sirena
Il vento era caduto, le vele si erano afflosciate sull'albero; nella notte appena rischiarata dalla nuova luna la nave dondolava leggermente sullo specchio nero dell'acqua, quando la sirena cantò.
Parve ai marinai di sentire un fruscio come di una brezza leggera; poi come una musica che salisse dal mare profondo; poi come una voce dolcissima, mai udita prima; e finalmente il canto li avvinse ad uno ad uno in un sonno senza risveglio.
La sirena, infatti, quando i marinai furono addormentati, montò sulla nave, li toccò uno dopo l'altro con la sua mano micidiale, e tutti, senza accorgersene, passarono, sognando, dal sonno alla morte.
Leonardo da Vinci, Favole e Indovinelli. Giunti Editore. Collana Favolosa. Finito di stampare nel mese di maggio 1997.
lettoriletto.it/products/lb-favole-e-indovinelli-leonardo...
“Some birds are not meant to be caged, that's all. Their feathers are too bright, their songs too sweet and wild. So you let them go, or when you open the cage to feed them they somehow fly out past you. And the part of you that knows it was wrong to imprison them in the first place rejoices, but still, the place where you live is that much more drab and empty for their departure.”
- Stephen King, Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption : A Story from Different Seasons
Soundtrack : www.youtube.com/watch?v=b4e8TjBLsJc
It's Only Pain by Katie Melua
INTROSPECTIVE
If I climbed the highest mountain until I couldn't see the ground
If I swam the deepest ocean to a love that wasn't found
If I dug the deepest hole to buried treasure underground
If I sung the sweetest melody that echoed all around
If I screamed the loudest scream but didn't make a sound
If I recited all the poetry from my heart that knows no bounds
Would I see you on the mountain or would you still be on the ground
Would you swim beside me with the dolphins that we found
Would you open up the treasure chest with the key left on the mound
Would you sing in perfect harmony and dance and turn around
Would you fill the air with your sweet voice or leave the emptiness abound
Would you make my poems rhyme with yours with sweetness of your sounds
What if I never climb the mountain, what if I never swim the sea
What if I never lift a shovel or dig a tunnel straight to thee
What if I never sing a lullaby or whisper in your ear
What if the scream I make is as silent as my gently flowing tears
What if the poems, prose and words I write are simply emptiness
What if loneliness and sorrow end in silence; empty promises
Could we climb a different mountain; find a different kind of love
Could we swim in warmer water; where the sunshine is above
Could we bury all the treasures of a love that cannot be
Could we sing a different song of friendship; harmony
Could we cease to scream inside our heads and find peace in silent reverie
Could we form a Poet's Corner and speak quietly of our hearts so free
I like to think there is a better way, where words are not required
I like to think that I can convey my feelings with my eyes
I like to think that unconditional love means I can let you go
I like to think that you will live a life so happy and I can make it so
I like to think that in many years I will still be here
I like to think my memories of you will keep me warm, my dear
So with these thoughts and words of mine I journey on my way
So I can fight the fight within me, so I can have my say
So I can find the strength I know is waiting for the chance
So I can find the will in me, to let go; begin a different dance
So I can find a better way to find true happiness
So I can find the final hurdle and leap it; then I am blessed.
- AP – Copyright remains with the author
'copyright image please do not reproduce without permission'
This is one of the cats staying around me at my room in Santorini. She was so friendly and had a very sweet voice. I wonder how she and the other cats are doing... I miss them a lot!!!
I heard Greece is a cat paradise and you see a lot cats around, but in fact it was a country of dogs;D I was surprised to see so many BIG dogs wandering about here and there. They were also friendly, though they made some fights among them, and followed me for some foods. I guess it made cats away from me and I couldn't take as many photos as I had expected:((
Cascada y acantilados " El Bolao"./ " El Bolao" waterfall and cliffs.
♫ Russian Red -Take me home ( with lyrics ).♫
Dedicada a mi gran amiga Lur, ella sabe el porqué.
Para acompañar, una canción con la dulce voz de Lourdes.
Partiendo de Cóbreces, una camino nos lleva a un lugar de mágica belleza, El Bolao .
En una zona de acantilados de singular belleza, se localiza la desembocadura del arroyo conocido cómo Río la Verde, que vierte sus aguas en forma de cascada, y mansamente se las entrega al mar Cantábrico, volviendo el agua a su hogar, después de recorrer el mundo.
Dedicated to my good friend Lur, she knows why.
To accompany a song with the sweet voice of Lourdes.
From Cóbreces, a path leads to a place of magical beauty, El Bolao .
In an area of outstanding beauty cliffs, located the mouth of the stream known as Río la Verde, which flows like a waterfall, and meekly surrender its waters into the Cantabrian Sea, the water returning home, after traveling the world.
Join us at 1 PM SLT for the beautiful singing of Mara O'Hanlon! A Secret Surrender favorite and regular - she comes every month! ♥
Join us for her sweet Scottish accent, her dog stories, her ukulele and her sweet voice - with the occasional curse word tossed in for fun -- she's a gem, do not miss this!
TP: maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Epsilon%20Orionis/200/116/...
Behind all of your tears
There's a smile
Behind all of the rain
There's a sunshine for miles and miles
Everything
Everything
You mean everything
You mean everything
Everything to me
The colors of your garden
They're yellow, blue and green
And the sound of your sweet voice
It's better than all my dreams
Everything
Everything
You mean everything
You mean everything
Everything to me
[Soundtrack: Ben Harper - Everything]
This desc goes to someone called " Reii " Hiihii long time no talked^^ Iam missing so fuckin bad my dear~ How do you do ? Do you remember me? I wish I could visit you .. I remember you used to read me books every afternoon , I miss your sweet voice:p I thought we will always be Best - Friends , hmm its just my dream:) It's so hard to forget someone who gave you so much to remember .. Love you miss you my dear
IMAGE OF NUESTRA SEÑORA VIRGEN DE LA REGLA venerated at the national shrine of Nuestra Señora Virgen de la Regla in opon, lapu-lapu city, mactan island, cebu.
The church of Our Lady of the Rule is in Opon town on the historic island of Mactan. The people first saw a picture of the Virgen de la Regla in 1735, when the first parish priest, Francisco Avalle, an Augustinian monk, showed it to them. Father Avalle was a devotee, having lived for 10 years in the Monastery of Nuestra Señora de la Regla in Chipiona, Andalucia, Spain. St. Augustine himself venerated this image. When he died in 430, his monks continued the devotion to her. When the Vandals invaded Africa in 433, the monks fled to Spain, taking the image with them. For several centuries, the Virgen de la Regla was venerated under several names: Virgen Libica, Virgen del Sagrario, Estrella de los Mares and La Virgen Morena, or Morenita.
Ball of fire from Heaven
Centuries passed and the image had been almost forgotten until, in 1330, the Virgin appeared to an Augustinian priest in the city of Leon, where King Ferdinand, after reconquering Spain, dedicated the Cathedral to Santa Maria de la Regla. The Virgin, who was carrying the Child Jesus in her arms, told the priest to go to the Sea of Cadiz and look for a cave where the image had been hidden away. She told the priest to get the image and place it in her church. She said she would guide him with celestial light. The priest did what he was told, and went on a long journey. One day, he rested under a tree and fell into deep slumber. Then he heard a sweet voice saying this was the place. He prayed and asked the Virgin to show him the exact spot. A ball of fire from heaven fell and struck the tree, but did not burn it. With the help of the people in the area, the priest dug the earth, until he found a huge rock. When the people lifted it, they saw the opening of a cave, and when they opened it, they saw a wooden crate, in front of which a lamp was burning. A church was built on the spot where the statue was found. There, the statue of Our Lady of the Rule had been permanently enshrined.
Pilgrims from other islands
In 1735, the people of Opon chose Our Lady of the Rule to be their patroness. They had a big picture made and placed it on the altar. Miracles began to happen. Nov. 21 became Our Lady's feastday. Thousands of pilgrims from neighboring islands come to the fiesta. They also come on Nov. 27 to mark the canonical coronation anniversary. On Nov. 27, 1954, Archbishop Julio Rosales crowned the Virgin as highlight to the Archdiocesan Marian Congress that year. The novena where I got this story was dated Feb. 21, 1987, with an imprimatur by Ricardo Cardinal Vidal. It was written in 1954. Every Saturday, 8 a.m., a Mass is sung at the shrine of Our Lady in Opon. Every day the devotees may go up to the sanctuary at the back and kiss the precious relic donated in 1908 by the Apostolic delegate Monsignor Agius. Please, report all favors received through Our Lady of the Rule to the parish priest of Opon.
feast day - every 21st day of November
And you're the only one that I can tell that I can talk to
I should be under your spell right now, your spell right now
The way you move, it moves me
With no place left to go
And your sweet voice leaves me speechless like you will never know -Alkaline Trio - Bad Time
KaydeneJenvieve.mysterious is wearing
Head - Lelutka Noel
Body - Reborn
Skin - Platinum Capriccio Sunkisses skin
Hair - Stealthic Secret
Wearing: Le'La Tuana
O Mary dear, that you were here
With your brown eyes bright and clear.
And your sweet voice, like a bird
Singing love to its lone mate
In the ivy bower disconsolate;
Voice the sweetest ever heard!
And your brow more...
Than the ... sky
Of this azure Italy.
Mary dear, come to me soon,
I am not well whilst thou art far;
As sunset to the sphered moon,
As twilight to the western star,
Thou, beloved, art to me.
O Mary dear, that you were here;
The Castle echo whispers 'Here!'
—“To Mary” (1818)
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Best viewed on black
copyright © 2008 serena dawn boggs
right before christmas you brought me a letter. being 3 and only knowing the letters for your name i asked you what the letter said. you then proceeded in your soft sweet voice "i love your heart mommy". hugging you until you muffled "mommy you are squishing me" i jotted your words on the front bottom right corner and placed it on my desk so that i could enjoy it. after a few weeks it is off to the memory box... it is mine forever. and you have no idea how much my heart loves yours. you have healed me in ways i cannot put into words. but, i hope you will always know and feel.
you wanted to go snuggle one day in my bed, so i grabbed the camera and decided to capture us and in my thoughts i knew i wanted these moments paired up with the letter you gave me.
the relationships we are given with our children as they age is my favorite part as mommy. some mommy's yearn for their babies to stay babies and although i don't want all of you growing up too fast. i yearn for our relations, conversations, exchanges that have formed over these years. the laughter that we have and the love we exchange. it amazes me that at 3 years new about to be 4, you chose to feel these words. to write me a letter.
i so very much love your heart too lady o.
Alaine Laughton (born September 21, 1978), known by her first name, is a Jamaican American reggae singer and songwriter. She was born in New Jersey, but moved to Jamaica at the age of three.
Singer/songwriter Alaine possesses a sweet voice, songwriting skills that show a depth of experiences and a smile that could brighten any day.
Benicàssim (Spain)
¿Os cuento un secreto?
Hace tiempo, descubrí por qué las sirenas son tan bellas y tienen una voz tan dulce. Nadan sin descanso hasta la costa islandesa durante el ocaso todos los veranos, a beber de una fuente qué mana con tal fuerza el agua y refleja miles de arco iris que escondidas y alejadas de los ojos humanos beben y llenan de color su alma hasta el siguiente verano, y consiguen enamorar con su voz a aquellos que las escuchan.
Yo conseguí mi botella de agua de colores que me regaló una sirena.
Do I tell you a secret?
Some time ago, I discovered why sirens are so beautiful and have such a sweet voice. They swim without rest until the Icelandic coast during the twilight every summer, to drink from a fountain what flows with such force the water and reflects thousands of arcs that hidden and away from human eyes drink and fill their soul with color until the next summer, and they manage to make those who listen to them fall in love with their voice.
I got my bottle of colored water that a mermaid gave me.
Est-ce que je te dis un secret?
Il y a quelque temps, j'ai découvert pourquoi les sirènes sont si belles et ont une voix si douce. Ils nagent sans repos jusqu’à la côte islandaise chaque crépuscule chaque été pour boire dans une fontaine ce qui coule avec tant de force l’eau et reflète des milliers d’arcs qui, cachés et éloignés des yeux de l’homme, boivent et colorent leur âme jusqu’au prochain. été, et ils parviennent à faire tomber en amour ceux qui les écoutent.
J'ai eu ma bouteille d'eau colorée qu'une sirène m'a donnée.
Ti dico un segreto?
Qualche tempo fa ho scoperto perché le sirene sono così belle e hanno una voce così dolce. Nuotano senza sosta fino alla costa islandese durante il crepuscolo ogni estate, per bere da una fontana ciò che scorre con tanta forza l'acqua e riflette migliaia di archi che nascosti e lontani dagli occhi umani bevono e riempiono la loro anima di colore fino al prossimo estate, e riescono a far innamorare della loro voce quelli che li ascoltano.
Ho preso la mia bottiglia di acqua colorata che mi ha dato una sirena.
María
"I'm a Yankee Doodle Dandy" could be heard as the girls went flying by on their bike.
We hope you are having as much fun today as Augusta Jane and Maude and their sweet little friends.
No puedo vivir sin amar amando
Amar como te amé y me has amado
Amar, amar sin que sea pecado
Amar, amar, amar amando.
A Mi SOL...
www.youtube.com/watch?v=bfa1Lq2iGmU&feature=related
Les deseo Una Feliz Semana ...
Agradezco todas sus gentilezas...
Pasaré por sus fotos tan pronto pueda.
Espero que esta voz dulce....los emocione como a mí.
Luna
See You as soon as possible... My Friends ,
Enjoy this sweet voice...and have a Happy Week !
Love for You !
____________________________________________________________________________
[...] When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow, we hear sweet voices ringing from lands of long ago, and etched on vacant places are half-forgotten faces of friends we used to cherish, and loves we used to know [...]
-- quote by Ella Wheeler Wilcox (American poet and writer 1850-1919)
Livigno, Italy (March, 2006)