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Behold, I am still alive even if it is a bit 'I do not hear!

absorbed with my creations (works a bit 'more difficult) I have to say they're giving me the incredible satisfaction, will be completed as soon as you show them but they have time, long time. Then there are interludes (small works) and some are them. Others I have to hand it over then I can post the first, since those who attend will receive my blog. What you see are the works carried out to strand in a flash point will be of little thoughts from little regalre for Christmas!

About Christmas Apparel What do you think of my blog?

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HAIKU

Without wind

day goes by fast

tolling of hours

Angela

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....... HAIKU

At that delight, in that

sigh, those percolations

in the sense of the breath, that breath of

common

.....................

feel the fate

inextricably linked,

overlapping

a mission

restlessly authentic

peacefully subjugated ,

the desire of the flight.

What would

a flight of heart?

genuine aspirations,

reflected in your eyes .... That love

courteous

means overtime,

the beauty of the heart.

Alfredo d'Ecclesia

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I'm sitting on my melancholy I would like the sun-

Angela

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Alba

Check dawn, and another day

prepares to heat and silence.

Down on the sea the dawn wind ripples and

scivola.Io

here or there, or altrove.Nel my principle.

(TS Eliot)

Wet Dream In A Diaper

Equal

equal, all made in the same breath

same path, destiny

writers are on the same street, the same blood

same stars on the head

same sky

our stories are always the same then

that our children are always the most beautiful.

Yet we

far, we divided ... different

separated, broken into war ...

corrupted by money from the things of matter

from power

theorize moral, new philosophies or

us talk of the past

are terrible cruel and miserable

yet big and tall and then sublime

us scriviam

songs and not sing sappiam

us scriviam

poems and not able to say that we

scriviam prayers

We're not sure but We pray that

scacciam brothers

us ... we like Cain Abel.

We share the pace and

We're not sure that it is our

which is the same

us that we are the body

us who are the soul

us the intellect that we are nothing

Giandiego Marigo

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Leoni

I've seen the lions of golden beaches

playing on the sand at sunset

In a distant forest telling travelers

lion dancing in the sun Sunset

... Towards a new dream

The Crossing

My heart

chase

This gull

dream of a guitar

hell Stolen

To give light to my days with no luck

This is the time to change

They told me

'll find the strength inside your love

Your life will return to shine

This is the time to change your heart

I've seen the lions of golden beaches

playing on the sand sunset

secret gardens

I learned songs

defending the heart

At the end of the desert

This is the time to change

They told me I'll find the strength inside your love

Your life will return to shine

This is the time to change your heart

In a forest far

They said travelers

lion dancing

the setting sun

In a long journey towards an unknown world

Your sail sail

Never land.

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Writers fate

equal, all made in the same breath

same path, destiny

writers are on the same street, own blood on the head

same stars

same sky

our stories are always the same then

that our children are always the most beautiful. Yet we

far, we divided ... different

separated, broken, corrupted by money in war ...

from things from matter

from power

theorize moral, new philosophies or

us talk of the past

are terrible, cruel and miserable

yet big and tall and then sublime

us scriviam songs and

sappiam not sing

us scriviam

poems and not able to say that we

scriviam prayers

We're not sure but we pray that

scacciam brothers

us ... we like Cain Abel.

share the pitch and

We're not sure that it is our

which is the same

us who are body

us who are the soul

us the intellect that we are nothing

Giandiego Marigo