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jesterlady
- Seattle, WA
- Last Record: 2013-04-09 16:20:05 -1000
- Joined: Sep 02, 2010
- http://jesterlady.live...
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All sorts of Bloemday goodness-obviously this is a growing album as more wonders get added and I dig deeper
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I try to keep in touch with reality, but no-one answers the phone.
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For Sarah Maryx
Thought of this song when I saw Sibylline's simply lovely drawing .:)
Inspired by jestsaying's poem.<3
poeTree.
the poetree is a source of life,
of love.
its roots
are embedded in the grounds of expression.
its trunk
is the conceptual & developmental foundation.
its twigs, its boughs
are the vessels of creativity.
its leaves
are the colorful, ever-fleeting outcome of interpretation.
together
these components form a marvel,
a miracle -
Art.
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Love ... |
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Metaphorest's Poem inspired by wirrow's image, inspired me.<3
To My Future Daughter a poem by: Blbest
You are and always will be beautiful. Never forgive me if I don’t tell you that enough. .................. Never let anyone tell you your worth, knowing you’re an endless vault of sun brewed tea and campfire, ginger snap and jazz, late night movie marathon and miracle. Don’t ever let them define you. Because you, will only ever be you, and no one will do it better.................................
My first attempt at animation. :)
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  If you had to pick one song to listen to on repeat for the rest of your life, what would it be? Bird on a Wire by Leonard Cohen, though if I had to liste... |
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According to legends dating back to the 11th century, a banshee wails nearby if someone is about to die. There are particular families who are believed to have banshees attached to them, and whose cries herald the death of a member of that family. The most common surnames believed to have their very own Banshees,are ones beginning with Mac or O" ( lots of Irish families :) )
"in her heart- grew a garden of icicles i planted them myself the seeds were little lies covered in the soil of stealth
she watered them with her tears quietly cultivating a life of sorrow and so it went throughout the years
until finally came the morrow i awoke to find winter here now
the harvest i do reap her heart silent and frozen alone...
forever will i weep"
Saintmaker