#Eclectic
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we can write are infinite...
Each one is a journey to a different world only we can build... a world we can share when we tell the story...
"There are pages
Precious pages
Pretty pictures in my mind..."
font: Russel Write
textures and effects by Remember Remember
See more in my Winter set Here
Red sky at night, sailors delight,
Red sky in the morning, sailors warning.
font: Russel Write
Just for you Jan as I know how much you like sheep.
textures and effects by Remember Remember
See more in my Sheep set Here
See more in my Texture set Here
See more in my Animals set here
The Lamb
By William Blake
Little Lamb who made thee
Dost thou know who made thee
Gave thee life & bid thee feed.
By the stream & o'er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing wooly bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice!
Little Lamb who made thee
Dost thou know who made thee
Little Lamb I'll tell thee,
Little Lamb I'll tell thee!
He is called by thy name,
For he calls himself a Lamb:
He is meek & he is mild,
He became a little child:
I a child & thou a lamb,
We are called by his name.
Little Lamb God bless thee.
Little Lamb God bless thee.
.....
Kalback The boss polo @TMD
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/TMD/144/136/22
Kalback Mainstore
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Hot%20Atoll/201/103/26
More goods:
THOR Bleach Settee @Anthem
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Anthem/126/127/1107
Adorable additions
Foxwood litle Dalmations
Kelly - ̗̀ϟ ̖́- Dark
Thank you for taking a peek.....🌹
“Trees are poems that the earth writes upon the sky." (Kahlil Gibran)
A stunning Common Ash (Fraxinus excelsior) silhouette against evening sky after sunset. The Ash tree shook of foliage now revealing its naked beauty. Cotswold Way, Lansdown Hill, near Bath. BANES, England, UK.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=pOxAqhTaXzw
Close your eyes and I'll kiss you
Tomorrow I'll miss you
Remember I'll always be true
And then while I'm away, I'll write home everyday
And I'll send all my loving to you
I'll pretend that I'm kissing the lips I am missing
And hope that my dreams will come true
And then while I'm away, I'll write home everyday
And I'll send all my loving to you
All my loving I will send to you
All my loving
Darling, I'll be true
font: Russel Write
textures and effects by Remember Remember
See more in my Texture set here
See more in my Animals set here
remember this poor little calf Jan..........
John Clare
Rural Morning
Urging each lown to leave his sports in fear,
To stop his starting cows that dread the fly;
Droning unwelcome tidings on his ear,
That the sweet peace of rural morn's gone by
"The mossy marble statue stood proudly to the side of the entrance to the Halls of Story, cradling in its arms a closed book.
It seemed to me it was guarding ancient tales of magic and wisdom, waiting for the right audience to start storytelling for them."
-The Story Bearer, The Halls of Story, The Apprentice's Journal
Located at Come Write In, Second Life
Come Write In is a communal writing space that was created primarily for writers interested or participating in the Nation Novel Writing Month event, which happens every November. The goal is to craft a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. You can tackle this challenge on your own, or as part of a group, but you're not alone! There are many people who participate each year, even across the world, and some of them are here in SL!
Grab yourself a glamping tent, or a chair by the fire, and work. Or commune with your muse and enjoy a comfortable place to park yourself in a chill relaxed environment while you're tabbed out and chatting in the forums.
To connect with other writers in SL, just join the Come Write In group! They will be organizing write-ins, word wars and sprints, and other fun writing activities throughout the month of November.
Want to get involved? Register, and participate in the NaNoWriMo community at nanowrimo.org/ Questions or comments regarding Come Write In? Contact Kestrel Evergarden in-world!
I write this with a heavy heart. The last couple of years have found me with a progressively debilitating spinal column and joint problems. If it were just me, I would never ask, but I have 2 young daughters that look to me for support, so I have to swallow my pride...
If you are in a position to help, I have setup an account to accept donations, even as small as the price of a coffee. Or, I also have PayPal. Anything would be greatly appreciated. See my "About" page on Flickr for the link. Thank you.
www.flickr.com/people/jax_chile/
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Thanks for your visit, FAVs, and comments, I truly appreciate it!
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© Fotografias de John B
© John Edward Bankson
Flores de Santa Gemita - Oct 6 2020-25 - City Flare BC - TS2 LR
Please don't use this image without my explicit permission.
© All rights reserved
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Additional description is not available at the moment. May be some day, I'll write something about this photoshot.
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Photo & retouch: mine
on your heart that every day is the best day in the year.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
One more from the Boneyard. Amazing & surreal place!
...that every day is the best day in the year.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Use without permission is illegal.
Please, no fave without comment or award!
Edited slightly in Topaz Studio
There is no AI in this image
Cover of ***ButterGarden*** Your BEST flower+ photos.!
Thank you Renee !
“God writes the Gospel not in the Bible alone, but also on trees, and in the flowers and clouds and stars.”
Martin Luther
- Write your name on the wall of the bar-restaurant La Bodeguita del Medio in La Habana Vieja. This is where writer Ernest Hemingway had consumed, according to him, the best mojito in Cuba. La Bodeguita del Medio also claims its creation.
- Écrivez votre nom sur ce mur du resto-bar La Bodeguita del Medio dans La Habana Vieja. C’est ici que l’écrivain Ernest Hemingway venait consommer, selon ses dires, le meilleur mojito de Cuba. La Bodeguita del Medio en revendique d’ailleurs sa création.
- Escribir su nombre en la pared del bar-restaurante La Bodeguita del Medio en La Habana Vieja. Aquí es donde el escritor Ernest Hemingway había consumido, según él, el mejor mojito en Cuba. La Bodeguita del Medio también afirma su creación.
she doesn't write about them with great skill ;-)
Charles Solomon
HBW! Words Matter! Resist!!
hemerocallis, day lily, 'Barbara Mitchell', sarah p duke gardens, duke university, durham, north carolina
But me as you can read, I'm innocent. ;)
.:EC:. Package Ariana & AddOn +(Less Dark)
.:EC:. Package Donna Piercing
.:EC:. Romy Pantie
.:EC:. Nevernine
I don't remember how to write poetry anymore. I've not written a line, verse, or stanza in nearly 15 years.
I do write a lot, of course. If you follow me for even the shortest of whiles, you've seen this. But it's writing, not poetry. Not exactly.
Ideally, I'd like to publish a book of photography & poems/poetry together. No idea if anyone wants that, but I do, and I suppose that's nearly all that should matter here. (It isn't, but that's fine too.)
The last poetry book I published (are we still calling them chapbooks for some reason?) was exhausting. The writing was, I mean. Reading it was too, but that was the point.
I gathered all of my words and made them as inaccessible as possible. And then I was finished. Truly finished, maybe.
Straying into rhyming and actual meter isn't something I'll do, so it's that vague other thing - writing thoughts with oddly-placed line breaks and spaces denoting something something and calling it a day.
That. That's what I haven't been able to do.
Also, I won't write poetry about writing. It's my own personal Rubicon/Vietnam.
But we'll see.
Nobody asked, so it's potentially happening.
.
.
.
'A Haunt of Fears'
Camera: Mamiya RB67
Film: Kentmere 100
Process: HC-110B; 6min
Missouri
July 2024
I promised a birthday card for Adriana, and this silvery evening shot seems perfect. My Lighthouse is by Villagers.
She loves poetry so this is a poem by Pablo Neruda
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example,'The night is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me sometimes, and I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.
This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.
Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.
Her voide. Her bright body. Her inifinite eyes.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my sould is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.
This is an exhibit at the National Quilt Museum.
Artist?
A dragon represents leadership qualities in Chinese culture compared to the burning destroyer icon of Western culture. The Chinese dragon has been a symbol of the Emporer since ancient times. My guess is that the Chinese characters around the Imperial blue and yellow colored dragon with brushes and key in its claw describe qualities of leadership, of power. The quilter writes of these leadership qualities: "gentleness, trustworthiness, able to carry a secret, romantic, equanimous, purposeful, just, forgiveness," etc.
We Write the Ghost Stories - Pattern Seeking Animals
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pxiy76dwzU4
Unbroken horses are scattering
Out past the fences they're circling
Gathering forces and dashing our hopes
So go the ways of our useless ropes
Searching the sacraments
These were no accidents
Every soul in town was drowning
Empty of empathy
Unfinished sympathy
We write the ghost stories as we go
Unbroken horses won't share the blame
It's all but over, they've rigged the game
Best not to follow down to the sea
They've primed the bridges with gasoline
These aren't the glory days
This isn't nature's way
Covered all in dust and rusted
Dreams hold the evidence
Angels are causing this
We write the ghost stories as we go
Searching the sacraments
These were no accidents
Every soul in town was drowning
Empty of empathy
Unfinished sympathy
We write the ghost stories as we go
We write the ghost stories as we go
We write the ghost stories as we go
Searching the sacraments
These were no accidents
Every soul in town was drowning
Empty of empathy
Unfinished sympathy
We write the ghost stories as we go
We write the ghost stories as we go
We write the ghost stories