Mãe Duriense


Na tua face, vinhas traçadas do tempo,
nos olhos, o rio inteiro a correr.
Mãe Duriense, barro e lamento,
és raiz da qual tive de nascer.

Com mãos de granito e sol cheio de mosto,
lavras o pão, regas a horta com gosto.
Entre socalcos, és flor que não cansa,
és Mãe da terra, és força, esperança.

Carregas a dor mas nunca o dizes.
És chão fecundo, com boas raízes.
Dizes que o Douro não para de chorar
pelos filhos que tens de amamentar.

Mãe Duriense, a tua verdade me guia.
Em ti vejo a minha tristeza e a tua alegria
das que ficaram quando tudo fugia,
das que semearam fé  e a minha poesia.

És dura como a pedra xistosa,
doce como a uva, bela como a rosa.
És mulher, és monte, és vinho, és perdão,
és o Douro inteiro  em peregrinação.



Victor Marques

Perhaps all our stars were in the right places
and guiding our lives as some say they do;
perhaps God was planning, perhaps Fate was smiling,
or perhaps it was Chance that brought me to you.

I knew you taught math, started books at the end,
that you loved to travel, to garden, and sing.
When you came through the door, and I learned something new—
that all of my life I’d been looking for you.
Your eyes searched the room, and I quietly prayed,
my heart would have broken if you’d turned away.

But my heart wasn’t broken, you saw me and stayed,
and we shared our stories the way people do.
At first we were cautious, at our age you’re cautious,
our hearts had been broken and mended before,
and there’s just so much breaking a heart can endure.

But God has kept blessing and Fate has kept smiling,
the stars still align, and the years have been kind.
Our genes haven’t failed us, no one has assailed us,
and putting it bluntly, we’ve been very lucky
with so many things that we cannot control.

Here in our shared world, our love has kept growing,
and we’ll go on loving till death do us part.
And whatever comes after, we’ll be there together,
and never forget that our love is forever.

It feels we are going in a different direction.....it should be easy to make a correction
Recovery is hard and you could hold the right card.so choose wisely and choose the right one ......because is you don't it could be worse than a gun
Take it day by day and you should be ok
The road is long and will be hard .....but not if you hold the right card.

when
i
break
free
from
the
monarch
butterfly cacoon
then
i
become
the
metamorphosis
of
myself
to
complete
the
spiritual journey

But why do I have to
pretend being happy..
For the greater comfort
of everyone around me. .

The great lie.
The one I've been telling myself
for ages.
My silent prison.
My own personal hell.

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                     The World is Passing By


                      The curfew tolls the knell of parting day

             -Gray, “Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard”


Full moon at dusk, a walking stick, the lane
The neighborhood ‘possum on his supper hour
Bumbling and stumbling to see what the cats have left
Little frogs chanting their Vespers hymns in choir

The evening star as the sanctuary lamp
Advising us of the Presence in the rising mist
The ‘possum has not paused to give his thanks
So I will pause and give thanks in his place

Full moon at dusk, my walking stick, the lane
A fig for the world! This is what we gain