Love Poetry For Couple

. Anna God Remembers the time she followed in her father�s footsteps, tiptoeing through the night behind him as he left for the barn. She was only two years old but she remembers how the front door locked behind her and he went off to do the milking, not even seeing her standing there in her little coat and rubber boots. She remembers singing to herself as she curled up on the front porch to

My Last Duchess. FERRARA That�s my last Duchess painted on the wall, Looking as if she were alive. I call That piece a wonder, now: Fr� Pandolf�s hands Worked busily a day, and there she stands. Will �t please you sit and look at her? I said �Fr� Pandolf� by design, for never read Strangers like you that pictured countenance, The depth and passion of its earnest glance, But to myself they

with Alistair Te Ariki Campbell, Helen Jacobs & Mark Pirie, June 3 2001 we parked the car by the memorial to Taawao, the Ngapuhi missionary which greets you as you arrive on the final flat that horseshoes round the bay to the wharf & a collection of sheds & boatsheds -- it was full tide, a spring tide, the water foreshortening the hills by a myth or 2. we were too close yet close enough

What I most want is to spring out of this personality, then to sit apart from that leaping. I've lived too long where I can be reached. Rumi "Unseen Rain" (i) In another life, this place was my home. I feel the rising of a forgotten knowledge like a spring from hidden aquifers under the earth. To glimpse your own nature is to come home like the rainfall that turns to mist before

1 Early Days the billy that rang empty on its hook against the gate post last thing at night was full of the colour of starlight at dawn 2 Originals them kumaras is really gallopin now Mr Kilgour in braces and hobnail boots he'd stamp and click on the path like a horse modestly skittish in its stall when he came over to use our phone party line 796D he shouted as if he believed a hollow and

I like to start my morning walks earlier in late summer before the Hawke�s Bay heat engine gets going and the flies start up. There are people already some with dogs... we smile and exchange handfuls of words. Scratches in the dirt like some post-modernist literary text signify a rabbit and I see the ragwort is making a comeback from spraying and

If you should bury me, as I have requested with my hands clasped, bury me wearing this bird Normal 0 false false false EN-NZ JA X-NONE