diary

*ABC* · 27/10/2010

“Romance, who loves to nod and sing,
With drowsy head and folded wing,
Among the green leaves as they shake
Far down within some shadowy lake,
To me a painted paroquet
Hath been- a most familiar bird-
Taught me my alphabet to say-
To lisp my very earliest word
While in the wild wood I did lie,
A child- with a most knowing eye.”



  1. Beautiful. Thanks. Cheers me up, even with 104° fahrenheit.


    — Tanja    04/11/2010    #

  2. “Take this kiss upon your brow!
    And in parting from you now, (104°)
    Thus much let me avow – You are not wrong, who deem
    That my days have been a dream;
    Yet if hope has flown away
    In a night, or in a day,
    In a vision or in none,
    Is it therefore the less gone?
    All that we see or seem
    Is but a dream within a dream.”


    — Timo    04/11/2010    #

  3. “Your forbidden scent is to real to my skin” – to F.B. – L’interdit.

    Like I closed my eyes with you
    Let me close my eyes on you
    Let me close my life in you
    Let me

    Like a child that never saw the light
    Our love was swallowed by the sea
    So visit me
    Someone out there must have kept a diary

    Love can die in a living heart
    Mine lives on in a dying heart
    Where can I find your memory?
    Sometimes I’m talking to a tree.

    I just had to cross the sea,
    So cross the River back to
    Be with me.


    — T    04/11/2010    #

  4. I guess T also has a fever, reading his (or her?) “poem”.
    Maybe he’s truly talking about a scent and a man that crossed the River.
    It’s a one-way ticket,T.
    Finn. is so witty, with his ABC :-).


    — Kitten    04/11/2010    #

  5. “too” of course
    “L’Interdit” being HIS fragrance there and then.


    — T    05/11/2010    #

  6. F.B.(aka F.M. – but I was too young to fully assume) was just wearing it, then, mingled with his own scent. A scent being the most powerful “tool” to bring memories back to life.
    Blame it on my fever.


    — T    05/11/2010    #