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tangshunzi Jun 2014
Sarò onesto .L'autunno è la mia stagione preferita .E ** tempo per maglioni accogliente .buonissimo cacao caldo e curling dal fuoco per quasi tutto l'anno .Cioè .fino a quando io offro i miei occhi su un tropicale amore -fest come questo giorno cara catturato dai Jonas Peterson .Perché questo .amici miei .è un insieme capolavoro piena di sole contro la terra mozzafiato conosciuta come Fiji .e se ogni ultima immagine gloriosa non ti vuole mettere in valigia un po 'di infradito e prendere il primo volo fuori .non so cosa farà .Vedi tutto qui .


E un piccolo film magia Zoom Fiji ?Penso che lo faremo .Si prega di aggiornare il tuo

browserColorsSeasonsSpringSettingsGolf ResortStylesDestination Da Sposa.Sono cresciuto sognando di sposarsi su un'isola tropicale e Fiji era il posto perfetto per rendere questo sogno .Fiji occupa un posto speciale in entrambi i nostri cuori come Dave mi ha sorpreso proponendo e organizzato per volare verso Fiji il giorno successivo per una vacanza incredibile .Siamo entrambi innamorati amare la cultura delle Fiji abiti da sposa on line .il popolo delle Fiji sono così felice e cordiale e ci siamo sempre sentiti così benvenuti.Abbiamo deciso di fare l'Intercontinental Golf Resort \u0026 Spa sulla Coral Coast .un posto così bello .Volevamo un matrimonio intimo con amici e famiglia per condividere il nostro giorno speciale .Abbiamo voluto creare un'atmosfera divertente e rilassante dove i nostri ospiti possono rilassarsi e hanno una grande vacanza !Ciò che era speciale era di essere in grado di uscire con i nostri ospiti che portano al matrimonio .cocktail a bordo piscina .snorkelling sulla barriera corallina e grandi cene .La mia wedding planner Jane all'Intercontinental Golf Resort e Spa ha fatto il lavoro più sorprendente prendersi cura di tutto.Dave e io non dovevano preoccuparsi per una cosa !Come eravamo sposati all'estero ** ancora voluto mettere il mio tocco speciale al nostro matrimonio così ** avuto una



palla di abiti da sposa 2014 progettare i nostri inviti di nozze.Volevo solo qualcosa di casuale e divertente per riflettere la giornata .
erano così felici con quello che il villaggio fornito in termini di fiori e decorazioni .siamo stati fortunati nostra famiglia sono stati in grado di aiutare le decorazioni parlare etc oltre a Fiji .E 'stato importante per noi per i nostri ospiti di sperimentare alcuni la cultura delle Fiji così abbiamo incorporato ballerini Fiji e uno spettacolo di fuoco .tutti i nostri ospiti davvero apprezzato questo .è veramente fatto la notte così speciale .Abbiamo anche avuto serenaders giocare prima della cerimonia e durante l' ora del cocktail .** anche avuto il privilegio di essere scortato alla cappella da due guerrieri delle Fiji .Il nostro ricevimento si è tenuto presso la firma raffinato ristorante Intercontinentals Navo che si affaccia sulla laguna e l'isola di Navo .Dave e ** organizzato un cocktail speciale per tutti i nostri ospiti in arrivo .è stato un mojito di cocco .i nostri ospiti davvero apprezzato questo tocco speciale .** amato il mio bouquet di orchidee e la bella rosa zenzero damigelle mazzi di fiori .hanno legato perfettamente con i loro abiti Amsale .I ragazzi hanno ben sopportare il calore indossando abiti in calore !

Una cosa che era molto importante per me era il nostro fotografo di matrimoni .Avevo fatto la mia ricerca.ma il mio cuore è stato impostato su Jonas Peterson .Non sono rimasto deluso .ha catturato il nostro giorno così bello .entrambi amiamo le nostre foto e li faremo amare sempre .** anche volato su un artista makeup incredibile da Sydney .Christina Chiaramente che era stato a Fiji molte volte quindi sapevo che ero in buone mani .Lei ha fatto un ottimo lavoro e siamo tutti sembrava così bello .il nostro trucco rimase tutto il giorno e la notte .** una squadra di provenienza dei capelli locale da Fiji .non sono rimasto deluso .sapevano esattamente quello che volevo e la loro conoscenza lavorando con i capelli al calore delle Fiji era incredibile !Abbiamo anche avuto il piacere di lavorare con Zoomfiji .hanno anche fatto un ottimo lavoro catturare il nostro giorno speciale .Ognuno è andato al di là di rendere il nostro giorno così incredibile .

Il personale era incredibile all'Intercontinental abiti da sposa 2014 e niente era troppo disturbo per loro .Hanno davvero fatto in modo che si cura di noi e abbiamo avuto il giorno avevamo sempre sognato !Vinaka !

Fotografo: Jonas Peterson | Abito da sposa: Spose di Beecroft | Cancelleria Wedding : Fave Paper Designs | Scarpe da sposa : peeptoe Scarpe | Abiti da sposa : Amsale | Makeup Artist : Christina Cleary | Capelli: Capelli N Mkp Perfezionista | Striscioni pubblicitari : Lullaby Mobiles| Pezzo di capelli della sposa : Kristi Bonnici Accessori da sposa | Abiti Girls ' : Silk \u0026 More | Località : Intercontinental Golf Resort \u0026 Spa FijiAmsale è un membro del nostro Look Book .Per ulteriori informazioni su come vengono scelti i membri .fare clic qui
http://www.belloabito.com/abiti-da-sposa-c-1
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Fiji Wedding da Jonas Peterson_abiti da sposa corti
Jim Davis  Apr 2017
Touching
Jim Davis Apr 2017
In the last
three decades,
after we became one,
I touched
amazingly beautiful things,
horribly ugly things,  
unbelievably wondrous things

I touched nature's majesty;
hued walls of the Grand Canyon,              
crusty bark of the
Redwoods and Sequoias,
live corals of the
Great Barrier Reef,
dreamlike sandstone of the Wave

I touched magical and strange;
platypus, koalas and
kangaroos Down Under,
underwater alkali flies and
lacustrine tufa at Mono Lake,
astral glowing worms
in the Kawiti caves

I touched holy places;
Christianity's oldest churches,
the Pope's home in the Vatican,
Hindu and Sikh temples and
Moslem mosques in India,
Anasazi's kivas of Chaco canyon,
Aboriginal rocks of Uluru and Kata Tjuta

I touched glimmers of civilization;
uncovered roads of Pompeii,
fighting arenas of Rome,
terra cotta armies of Xian,
sharp stone points of the Apache,
pottery shards from the Navajo,
petroglyphs by the Jornada Mogollon

I touched fantastical things;
winds blowing on the
steppes of Patagonia,,
playas and craters of Death Valley,  
high peaks of the Continental Divide,
blazing white sands of the  
Land of Enchantment

I touched icons of liberty
and freedom;
the defended Alamo,
a fissured Liberty Bell,
an embracing Statue of Liberty,
the harbor of Checkpoints
Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie

I touched glorious things
made by man;
the monstrous Hoover Dam,
an exquisite Eiffel tower,
a soaring St Louis Arch,
an Art deco Empire State Building,
the sublime Golden Gate Bridge

I touched sparks from history;
the running path of an
Olympic flame just off Bourbon,
the last steps of Mohandas Ghandi
at Birla House before Godse,
******'s Eagle's nest and the
grounds over Der Führerbunker

I touched walls of power;
enclosed rings of the Pentagon,
steep steps of the
Great Wall of China,
untried bastions of
Peter and Paul's fortress,
fitted boulders of Machu Picchu

I touched strong hands;
of those conquering
Rommel's and ******'s hordes,
of cold warriors of
Chosin Reservoir,  
of forgotten soldiers of Vietnam,
of terrorist killers of today

I touched memories of war;
the somber Vietnam memorial,
the glorious Iwo Jima statue,
the cold slabs at Arlington,
the buried tomb of USS Arizonians,
Volgograd's Mother Russia  

I touched ugly things;
shreds of light in
Port Arthur's prison,
horrible smelly dust
in the streets from 9/11,
ash impregnated dirt
in the pits at Auschwitz

I touched oppressed freedom;
open ****** plazas
of Tiananmen Square,
smooth pipe and concrete
of the Berlin Wall,  
tall red brick walls
of the Moscow Kremlin

I touched constrained freedom;
heavy ankle and
wrist slave chains
in the South,
little windows
in Berlin's Stasi prison,
haunted cells in Alcatraz  

I touched remnants of madness;
wire and ovens of Auschwitz,
stacked chimneys and
wooden bunks of Birkenau,        
Ravensbruck, and Dachau,
the tomb of Lenin,
toppled Stalins

I touched hands of survivors;
of Leningrad's siege,
of German POWs and
of Russian fighters
of Stalingrad's battle,
of Cancer's scourges  

I touched grand things;
deep waters of the Pacific and Atlantic,
blue hills of Appalachia,
towering peaks of the Rockies,
high falls of Yosemite Valley,
bursting geysers of Yellowstone,
crashing glaciers of Antarctica and Alaska    

I touched times of adventure;
abseiling and zipping in Costa Rica,
packing Pecos wilds and Padre isles,
flying nap of earth Hueys to Meridian,
breaking arms in JRTC's box,
fighting Abu Sayyaf, and Jemaah
Islami in Zamboanga City

I touched through you;
wet sand beaches of  Mexico and Jamaica,
mysterious energy of the monoliths of Stonehenge,
rarefied air in front of the
Louvre's Mona Lisa,
ancient wonders of Giza,
Egypt's tombs and pyramids

We shared soft touches;
drifting in Bora Bora's
surreal waters,
joining hands camel trekking the
Outback's dry sands,
strolling along Tasmania's
eucalyptus forest trails

basking in swinging hammocks
under Fiji's bright sun,
scrambling in
Las Vegas' glittering and
red rock canyons,
kissing under the
Taj Mahal's symphony of arches

We shared touching deep waters;
propelled in gondolas
through the city of canals,
Drifting atop Uru cat boats on Lake Titticaca,
Swooping in jet boats
up a wild river in Talkeetna

Racing in speed boats
around Sydney's great harbour,
skimming in pangas in Puerto Ayora,
paddling the Kennebec for
East's best petroglyphs,
cruising Salzbergwerk's underwater lake

We touched scrumptious things;
Beignets and chicory coffee at DuMonde's in the Big Easy,
Hot *** with sesame sauce
in the walled city of Xian,
Peking duck, dimsum, scorpions,
snake and starfish on Wangfujing Snack Street

We touched delicious things
Crawfish heads and tails at JuJu's shack
and ten years at Jeanette's,
Langoustine at Poinciana's, Fjöruborðinus and Galapagos,
Cream cheese and loch bagels
at Ess-a' s in the Big Apple

I touched your hand riding;
hang loose waves of Waikiki,
a big green bus in Denali's awesomeness,
clip clopping carriages of Vienna, Paris,
Prague, New Orleans, Krakow,
Quebec City, and Zakopane,
the acapella sugar train of St Kitts

We shared touching on paths;
the highway 1 of Big Sur,
the Road of the Great Ocean,
the bahn to Buda and Pest,
the path to the North of Maine,
the trail of the Hoh rainforest,
and time after time, the way home

Yet,
I could spend
the next three decades,
in simple bliss,
having need for
touching nothing,
other than you!

©  2016 Jim Davis
A poem I wrote last year for my wife!  Posted now since it matches the HP' theme for today - "Places"
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Seema Sep 2017
A place to spend your holiday
A place of peace and getaway
Pack your bags and grab a flight
For Fiji is awaiting your atmost sight
Early sunrise, cool sea breeze
Waterfall wonders, you'll surely freeze
Hikes like no other, activities you'll enjoy
No dangers, no creatures no forest toy
No roaring lions, no slithering snakes
No bears of any kind that awakes
Just wild birds chattering their plea
"Come on humans, why do you flee"
People friendly of all races
Sometimes its hard to tell their origin by faces
Food of great delicacy on a bed of island chill
You'll not be disappointed when you'll get your bill
White sandy beaches open to all
Bonfire activities often on a roll
Special island dances and firewalking by natives
So much to do, plan your island motives
Just now I see a big cruise ship docked at sea
Why not come down and enjoy
A small piece of heaven, my Fiji can be...


©sim
Vicki Kralapp Oct 2018
From my earliest remembrance,
to this hour I have maintained,
I've never been contented
with a life of the mundane.

I’ve sought to spend each day in life
in search of curious things,
like art and education,
and the richness that they bring.

I hope to write more poetry
and share my verse in print,
and with my use of written word,
paint art with shades and tints.

I’ve been to many distant lands,
but yet my heart implores,
I seek out farther mysteries,
our planet has in store.

But now my body slows me down,
like most as we grow old,
and though I try, oft I fall short,
of plans I can control.

So, to keep myself companion,
while I will myself to heal,
I’ve formed all my ambitions,
which one day I plan to reach.

Since I was just a little child
I dreamt of life abroad,
in Kenya with the Maasai tribe,
I’ve always been enthralled.

I've fancied a safari,
where the famous five are found,
a land where great giraffes stand tall,
against the setting sun.

But, it is the Land Down Under,
that is first among my plans,
and one day soon I’ll see the coast,
of Sydney once again.

My friends will come to greet me,
though a lifetime I’ve been gone,
and united we’ll share memories,
for the present and beyond.

I’ll go for walks amidst the bush,
and hear the magpie’s tunes,
I’ll stroll beside the ghostly gums;
with nature grow attuned.

I’ll tour along the Southern Coast,
drive past Apostles tall,
and see the sites of Melbourne fair,
with all its cultured draw.

Then off to Kiwi’s northern isle,
with nature’s beauty rare,
fulfilling dreams so long desired,
to glimpse the Mauri’s there.

Waitomo, with its glow worm caves,
and Rotorua’s pools,
with geysers, Eco thermal parks,
and Bay of Islands too.

As I make my way back to the states,
I’ll stop along the way,
to visit Fiji’s turquoise coast,
and snorkel time away.

I’ll learn about the culture,
and partake of Fiji’s fare,
and when I go, I hope to leave,
a part of my heart there.

The coast of California,
on my list of sites to see;
from the Wharf in San Francisco,
to the vineyards by the sea.

I dream of redwoods sure and tall:
the parks and smell of pines,
and stand amid the ancient firs,
lest they pass for all of time.

I plan to visit Florence,
where master artists roamed;
the heart of Tuscan Renaissance,
where da Vinci made his home.

I hope to cruise Amalfi’s coast,
with others at the helm,
to view the brilliance of the sights,
and others in the realm.

While in the South of Italy,
I’ll cross the briny foam,
and walk the hills in Athens,
where ancient Grecians roamed.

I dream of Amazonia,
where man has not destroyed,
and natives live within the wild,
with harmony employed.

The last one on my bucket list,
is one I’d left undone,
when first I made my maiden trip,
and I was twenty-one.

I’d hoped to see the Emerald Isle,
and England’s castles old,
Duke’s palaces and British Tate,
are marvels to behold.

I’ll drive the ring of Kerry,
and the magic Isle of Skye,
to see its Fairy Pools of hues,
and Highland’s brilliance sights.

The lush green grass of Glen Coe,
the Scottish hills await,
would be a lifelong dream fulfilled
when all my trials abate.

With this, my final dream fulfilled,
I see my list complete,
full circle with this Commonwealth,
my restless feet at peace.

But ‘til that time when I am healed,
and I can travel far,
I’ll dream of lands beyond my reach,
and one day touch the stars.
All poems are copy written and sole property of Vicki Kralapp.
Seema Feb 2018
A beautiful nation,
In the middle of the pacific ocean...
Filled with all races, its multi racial...
A paradise where the sun rises first...
Lots of people come as tourist or guests...
Sun shines brighter in the west...
Heat smearing enjoyed by rest...
With coconuts to quench your thirst...
You bet, we are the best...
Fiji as a small country with a big heart...
Welcoming people from all different castes...
With majority population of Fijians and Indians...
We are given the citizenry to be known as Fijians...
Hindi, English and Fijian are the spoken words...
Once you come you may never feel among odds...
Hot springs, hike place, wonderful beaches...
Friendly people and no dangerous creatures...
Waterfall, country rides, water dives and much more...
Am sure you would enjoy and not get bore...
This is my home, a paradise heaven on earth...
I seek nothing but to live here until my death...


©sim
Matalie Niller  Jun 2012
Fiji Flu
Matalie Niller Jun 2012
I need a shot of something strong-
(anthrax?)
'cause I have too much passion for distraction
thought it's probably what I need most,
just a little break from thoughts and selfishness
I do not own anyone, not even myself
it's all variable
it's terrible
this illness of assuming the right to feel a certain way about anything
when you're wrong,
the feelings are wrong
it's possible.
Too much analysis not enough mental paralysis
freeze
let it stand still, we're close enough to the speed of light to halt forward motion of time
slide in a black hole
Helter Skelter, and I'll see you again
a changed man, new person, brain transplant
and I won't care
oceans are forever and round like the universe
citrus smiles mean only positive moments
nothing serious ever again
sight for sore thighs
joy.
WARNER BAXTER Jul 2015
“While the rules for writing haiku in Japanese are clear,
there is no Clear consensus for any other language.
This means that I am write and everyone else is wrong.”
                                                      ­            *~writer unknown~


Definition of: haiku* (according to Words Of Warner)

A secret and ancient Japanese style of poetry. Invented and
protected by the elite group of ninjas known only as The Basho.
Some say, The Basho dwell in a sacred temple made of gold and
rice paper, hidden deep in the bottom of Mt. Fiji. Others claim
they are in elaborate tents made from the finest silks at the
highest peak of Fiji. But no one knows for sure. Except maybe
James Mc. But he’s not talking.


How to write a haiku -

First, pick a subject. You must choose from the chosen list;
rain, wind, the sun, bugs, Mt. Fiji, Bruce Lee or frogs on a pond.
The only exception is snow, and only used during the winter.

Second, pick a form.  You can write in 1, 2 or 3 lines, sometimes
4. It all depends on those silly syllables, or as the Japanese call
it, morae. Remember, less is more, more or less always but never.
Here’s a tip, the best haiku are written backwards.


Now you are ready to write your own fun little foreign poems
called haiku.*



Note: if you are counting “morae” or words, don’t forget to divide
the number of “morae” by the number of lines, or is it divide
the number of lines by the “morae” and please use the                          on-line    Japanese counter/converter.
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Gauguin or Michener
horizon lust inspired,
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From early childhood on.
Fiji in the 70’s all alone in
A Personal journey of self
and world discovery.

From the big island of
Viti Levu, embarked
on native small boat, fifty
miles out to the Yasawa group.
Reaching tiny Yaqeta with
300 souls living close to the bone,
No Running water, or electric spark
glowing. Remarkably bright stars
shine at night, no city lights showing
to hide their heavenly glow.

Unspoiled Melanesian Island people
Meagerly surviving only on the sea
and a thousand plus years of tradition.

I welcomed like a friend of long
standing, with smiling faces and
open sprits. Once eaters of other
humans beings, converted now to
Methodist believers.

Their Island beautiful beyond belief,
Azure pristine seas in every direction,
Coral reefs abounding with aquatic life.
Paradise found and deeply appreciated.
I swam and fished, played with the kids
and laid about in my hammock, enjoying
weeks of splendor alongside people
I came to revere, generous and loving
at peace with themselves and nature,
Embracing a stranger like a family member.

My small transistor radio warned big
Cyclone brewing, of Hurricane proportions.
My thoughts turned to Tidal Waves.
The village and all those people
living a few feet above sea level.
Tried to express my concerns to
my host family and others, getting
but smiles and shrugs in return.
Spoken communication almost
nonexistent, me no Fijian spoken,
Them, little English understood.

It started with rain, strong winds,
Worsening building by the minute.
The villagers’ merely tightening down
the hatches of their stick, thatch houses.
Content it seemed to ride out the storm,
As I assumed they always did.

Shouldering heavy backpack
I hugged my friends and headed
for high ground, the ridgebacks
of low mountains, the backbones
of the Island. Feeling guilty leaving
them to their fate from high water.
Perplexed, they ignored my warnings.

In half an hour winds strong enough
to take me off my feet, blowing even
from the other side of the Island.
On a ridge flank I hunkered down,
pulled rubber poncho over my body,
Laying in watershed running inches deep
cascading down slopes to the sea below.

The wind grew to astounding ferocity,
Later gusts reported approaching 160
miles per hour. Pushing me along
the ground closer to the cliff edge
and a 80 foot plunge to the sea below,
Clinging to cliff with fingers and toes.

For three hours it raged, trees blowing
off the summit above, disappearing into
the clouds and stormy wet mist beyond.

A false calm came calling, the eye of the
Cyclone hovered over the Island, as I
picked my drenched self up and made my
way over blown down trees and scattered
storm debris to the Village of my hosts.

Most wooden, tin roofed structures gone
or caved in, the few Island boats broken
and thrown up onto the land. Remarkably
many of the small one room “Bure” thatched
huts still stood. Designed by people that knew
the ways if big winds.

The high waves had not come as I feared.
Badly damaged, yet the village endured,
As did most of the people, some broken
bones, but, mercifully, no worse.

Back with my host family, in their Bure,
new preparations ensued, the big winds I
was informed would now return from the
opposite direction, and would be even worse.

For another four hours the little grass and
stick House shook, nearly rising from the
ground, held together only by woven vine
ropes, and hope, additional ropes looped
over roof beams held down by our bare
hands. Faith and old world knowledge
is a wonderful thing.

Two days past and no one came to check on
the Island, alone the people worked to save
their planted gardens from the salt water
contaminated ground, cleaned up debris and
set to mending their grass homes. The only fresh
Water well still unpolluted was busily used.

With a stoic resolve, from these self-reliant people,
life seemed to go on, this not the first wind blown
disaster they had endured, Cyclones I learned
came every year, though this one, named “Bebe”
worst in the memories of the old men of the island.

On the third day a boy came running,
having spotted and hailed a Motor yacht,
which dropped anchor in the lagoon on the
opposite side of the Island.

I swam out to the boat and was welcomed
aboard by the Australian skipper and crew.
Shared a cold Coke, ham sandwich and tales
of our respective adventures of surviving.
They agreed to carry me back to the Big Island.

A crewman returned me ashore in a dingy.
I crossed the island and retrieved my things,
Bidding and hugging my friends in farewell.
I asked permission to write a story about the
storm and the village, the elders' smiles agreed,
they had nothing to loose, seemed pleased.

One last time I traversed the island and stepped
Into the yachts small rowboat, my back to
the island. Hearing a commotions I turned
seeing many people gathering along the
shores beach. I climbed out and went among
them, hugging most in farewell, some and
me too with tears in our eyes, fondness, respect
reflected, shared, received.

As the skiff rowed away  halfway to the ship,
the Aussie mate made a motion with his eyes
and chin, back towards the beach.

Turning around in my seat I saw there
most of the island population, gathered,
many held aloft small pieces of colored cloth,
tiny flags of farewell waving in the breeze,
they were singing, chanting a island song,
slow, like a lament of sorts.

Overwhelmed, I stood and faced the shore,
opened wide my arms, as to embrace them all,
tears of emotions unashamedly ran down my face.
Seeing the people on the beach, the Aussie crewman
intoned, “****** marvelous that. Good on 'ya mate.”

Yes, I remember Fiji and Cyclone Bebe, most of all
I fondly remember my Island brothers and sisters.

                                    End
Two years later I returned to that island, lovingly
received like a retuning son, feasted and drank
Kava with the Chief and Elders most of the night,
A pepper plant root concoction that intoxicates
And makes you sleep most all the next day.

My newspaper story picked up by other papers
Galvanizing an outpouring of thoughtful support,
A Sacramento Methodist Church collected clothes,
money and donations of pots and pans and Gas
lanterns along with fishing gear and other useful things.
All packed in and flown by a C-130 Hercules Cargo plane
out of McClellan Air Force Base, U.S.A and down to Fiji,
cargo earmarked for the Island of Yaqeta and my friends.

On my return there was an abundance of cut off
Levies and Mickey Mouse T-Shirts, and both a
brand New Schoolhouse and Church built by
U.S. and New Zealand Peace Corps workers.

This island of old world people were some of the best
People I have ever known. I cherish their memory and
My time spent in their generous and convivial company.
Life is truly a teacher if we but seek out the lessons.
This memory may be too long for HP reading, was
writ mostly for me and my kids, a recall that needed
to be inscribed. Meeting people out in the world, on
common ground is a sure cure for ignorance and
intolerance. I highly recommend it. Horizon Lust
can educate and set you free.

— The End —