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Poem by Robert Laurence Binyon (1869-1943), published in The Times newspaper on 21 September 1914.
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.
Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.
They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.
But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;
As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain,
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.
Cain, Picos de Europa (España)
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♥ THE WEIGHT OF THE WORLD ♥
The weight of the world on your shoulders,
What more can you say?
A city that stood tall and bold,
Fell on a dark September day.
As the engulfing grey smog vanishes,
You know it is the time.
To recover all the loved ones,
Who left the world behind.
To the men and women who worked so hard,
They filled us all with hope.
People who we can call our everyday heroes,
Are still trying to cope.
With the weight of the world on your shoulders,
No one can see your tears.
Hang your head in sorrow,
Flush away your fears.
by: Candice Luff - Australia
Julia finds her self Back in her old Body in her old Time... But how or why did she end up like this?
Were am I... thought Julia to her self as she looked around at the world she had remembered.
"Your dreaming my Child," A males voice called out from what seemed a grate distants away.
"Daddy... were are you," Called out Julia for she had longed for her Daddy's hug for so long.
"You have failed me... you can not be my daughter..." The Voice called out but so how it seemed Closer not so distant as it was before.
"No... Daddy Please! I tried Please Love me!" Begged Julia now feeling desperate for all she wanted was to make her daddy proud of her.
"There will be no love for you my Child till you Kill the Little Girl this Child that your foolish Brother seems to like so much!" Stated the Voice now seeming to come form all side of her at once.
"Kill?" Asked Julia seeing as how the orders had changed.
"Yes Kill her with you own two hands and bring me her head... do this and I will love you my child," The Voice now commanded.
"Yes Daddy I promise I will make you love me again daddy." Replied Julia seeing hope for her father to love again and hoped it be like old times before the war that ended her world before.
"Its Time you awakened in your Golem body and prove your worth..." stated the voice now sounding so load it sent Echoes throw her very head.
Will Julia Find a way to kill Arabella so that her Father will love her again?
Will Julia ever stop being a Daddy's Girl?
Or is there another From of love waiting to Save Julia from her self?
This is the Model that is Julia's true self the other girl had fallen in love with my friends doll so she will not be joining us in this story ^_^
Who died of wounds after the Battle of Passchendaele 100 years ago today. He apparently wrote to his mother after the battle saying he was fine, it was just a slight wound but then he got gangrene and died.
Freedom Rock was started by an Iowa boy, Bubba Sorensen. Now, these are found all over the state and are starting to pop up nationwide. This is the work of another artist as inspired by Bubba. Found in Newton, Iowa
Christmas is not cancelled, it's just different
Don't use this image on websites, blogs or other media without explicit permission.
© All rights reserved
This Panorama image gives me relief in knowing that all in this world has not changed to suit progress. Perhaps the world of days gone by saying "Remember Me?
Lately I have grown fond of creating wide sweeping panorama images. in doing so, I have found that in some cases, a single shot (even with a full frame camera and wide angle lens) just didn't capture the entire scene as I would like to remember it.
This is my biggest panorama thus far - composed with 10 original images.
Blog - leafonthewindsl.wordpress.com/2016/05/20/remembering-amy/
Please join us in a plurk of remembering all the happy times. Come over and share your fondest memory - www.plurk.com/p/ln3d5f
To put you in the mood
Photo courtesy of friend Ted Hayes xoxo
Texture from Distressed Jewell
Textures from Bending Light
Thank you for your much appreciated visits, comments, faves and invites! ;D
Thank you for the texture
www.flickr.com/photos/lenabem-anna/6772140935/in/photostream
© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Use without permission is illegal.
The beauty of a winter's morn -
when snow is fresh and clean;
Boughs on evergreens clothed in white -
a pretty sight to be seen.
Bushes are, themselves, a garden -
to be remembered in the spring;
A postcard scene on a winter's morn,
to me, is everything.
Joan Adams Burchell
I was talking to someone who lives near Glacier National Park at a party last night. I was reminded about just how beautiful it is there. I had to go back and revisit the scenes with those majestic mountain peaks
Remembering this time last year when life was simpler and crowds didn't matter.
San Sebastian
Spain
Images available at:
|| REMEMBER DECEMBER. ||
aka. Dear Solitude.
And there you are again.
I see you walking through the woods, my right eye never fully left your guise. Your movements as painfully slow as you are, but still way too fast for me. I hear the cracking of dead branches on the ground. My sound.
Felt your cold, black cloak on my skin long before today was here. Well then. Good day, well known being!
I wouldn't say I've missed you, but I've certainly expected you.
Now we stand again, equally at the same place.
Years may have past by, but you're as real as you can possibly be.
I'm weaker than the times before. Those past months, you really scared me frequently. I hate you, but wish you would stop me from falling down. I can barely stand without you. I know it's not your fault. My sweet hope should get the punishment. Again.
I know it's time to say goodbye.
It will take a long time until my left side won't feel numb anymore.
So let's turn away. Away from the window.
It's like walking down the rabbit hole, every step feels like time at the shore. Please take my hand and guide me through this maze of memories. I will follow you. But may I ask again? Why is it always me? Why? Please. I can't do this no more. Searching for my room in a labyrinth of bouncing castles ..
I know this all too well already. But it was never this painful. You really got me good this time. Not in my deepest dreams I could've imagined a twin like that would exist. And if so, I'd thought I'd never meet him. But there he was, like somebody snapped their fingers. Just like that. What did you say? True friendship can be much deeper than love? Ah, I see. This is why it hurts so much.
But tell me, was it really true? „I always tried to get a closer view ..“
Well then, solitude, let's go. We have no need to talk. The worst about our walk out of the labyrinth, are the pictures on the walls. „Shining like a work of art, hanging on a wall of stars.“ Like they say: A picture paints more than a thousand words. Feeling all the things I'm missing now. Thank you for guiding me, old friend. Now it has to begin, the growth of hope and courage. Once more.
I so hope we'll never see each other again.
But as I shake your hand goodbye, I shatter into thousand pieces.
Maybe, I just give up for good.
And if I'll never find a kindred spirit again, I'll bury these memories under a beech and know forever,
that my so called best friend was „always just a little out of reach.“
© Laura Karg. / Woodmouse Art.
Song pieces by Guster, Satellite.
H.M.S. EDINBURGH . KNOWN AS " FORTRESS OF THE SEA ".
LAUNCHED APRIL 1983 , DECOMMISSIONED 6th. JUNE 2013.
SHE WAS THE LAST TYPE 42 TO SERVE IN THE ROYAL NAVY.
Fall came down where I live with authority this weekend, arriving with a non-stop weekend of rain so far. It's good for our area, though, we need the water and beginning of the snow pack in the mountains.
That still doesn't have me already starting to miss the sunny days of summer! Sure, the sun will be back through fall, but the warmth is now gone. I enjoy all the seasons, but I definitely prefer warm over cold!
After the month long photo challenge participation, I had to take a little time off of photos and flickr. I am looking for my next ideas to get out and shoot though and will be back to posting. Off now to check out flickr friends' streams...
copyright © Mim Eisenberg/mimbrava studio. All rights reserved.
Remembering our friend Jim (Garnite), who left us two years ago today.
******************
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Remembering
Parée Erica’s Texture Fun Challenge 42
Stock with thanks to Parée Erica
Couple 1- Couple stock 30 by gracies stock- deviantArt
Couple 2- He And She IV by Eirian Stock- deviantArt
Girl- Outside 4 by Hanratty Stock-deviantArt
Locket by demoncherrystock- deviantArt
Locker Portrait- Steven Swirko-Wikimedia Commons
Wedding Rings by aermasterrich-deviantArt
Orangemen marching in rememberance of a foreign King who defeated an English King in a battle long ago.
With me so far?
They're actually Irishmen, from Northern Ireland, mostly of Scottish descent. However, in truth, they really want to be Englishmen - that explains the bowler hats and brollies.
The're marching here in what they regard as a foreign country, in Rossnowlagh in County Donegal which is in The Republic of Ireland.
This is in rememberance of a battle long ago where a Dutch Prince, William of Orange, who was mounted on a fine horse, they say, defeated an English King, who wasn't up to very much in any event and departed the scene with undue haste.
So.... who knows, given that history has a habit of repeating itself, future generations of people somewhere may march in remembrance of the Battle of Brexit. Possibly not march in the sense of putting one foot in front of the other, but parade on bicycles of a traditional make. Clown outfits and dodgy blonde wigs will be an essential part of the regalia. Bicycle clips optional extras.
"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness . . . it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair . . . in short, the period was so far like the present period . . . ."
Charles Dickens
Butternut Creek, Jamesville, N.Y.
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WOW, HOW long has it been since I last shot The Bench Flickr??
So, here it is. I remember meeting Derek on a Friday afternoon in Paris at a busy cafe and talking about this project. I gave him a card with the 'None Aggressive Hoodies' on it and 5 months later I was exhibiting some of the images at his gallery in Melbourne, Florida.
And so, whilst out on a cold November afternoon, it came to pass that Derek too should get to pose on the very same bench accompanied by Cassandra.
I've missed you bench.