;-) 
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Birthday Thank You Cards Wording
Feeding Grounds
reached out, and pointing with your finger,
touch the moon.
Who can deny your perspective
is valid for you.
Maybe tonight you saved.
Who can judge your truth.
Your shadow on your heart makes unmistakable sadness,
Your truth, is the fire that burns you,
So you know,
Go get it!
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Black Stool Post Birth
Women's Day 2011
With this report we to summarize the activities that took place around March 8, with which we intend to make visible the contributions of women in culture and science, and women know and value of our immediate environment, locality.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Sit-on-top Kayak Blueprints
coming, I feel your presence,
still far, I know you're coming.
You bring your hands generous
your eyes deep with travel experiences.
in your voice, your song by heart.
in your gestures, books, stories and masks.
Silences. Questions and answers.
natural dynamics.
new spaces filled with smiles.
climate change, fall in gentle warmth.
comes reaching with your embrace, yesterday, morning.
today!
And my energy is renewed.
feel a banquet.
check And my soul wings.
(almost caress you with them, see?)
Who can stop my flight.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Stroke Patient - Gift In Hospital
Photo of Barney Stinson - How I Met Your Mother
never goes wrong in the pictures. Recordeu
visit the meu blog Linuxero: http://abahatar.blogspot.com 
Monday, March 21, 2011
Consequences Of Kundali Mismatch
borges, voice and Buenos Aires .... autumn. Bright
And the city now is like a blueprint
From my humiliations and failures;
From the door I saw the sunset
And before I waited in the marble vain. Here
uncertain today than yesterday and I have brought
the common cases of all kinds
human
here my footsteps Hatched their invaluable maze. This Cinderella evening
expected
The fruit owes morning
my shadow here in the equally futile final Shadow
be lost lightly.
unites us not love but fear;
be why I love her so much.
From my humiliations and failures;
From the door I saw the sunset
And before I waited in the marble vain. Here
uncertain today than yesterday and I have brought
the common cases of all kinds
human
here my footsteps Hatched their invaluable maze. This Cinderella evening
expected
The fruit owes morning
my shadow here in the equally futile final Shadow
be lost lightly.
unites us not love but fear;
be why I love her so much.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Patterns For Chainmail Bras
crack
From this perspective, let me fascinated by the distance ... Needed now, more than other days, a bit of silence, a little holy solitude, maybe just me ... maybe these days, and I can not reach (and I think I do not want ...) Walking
so aimlessly, slowly, toward that unknown horizante today certainly sounds like utopia ...
so aimlessly, slowly, toward that unknown horizante today certainly sounds like utopia ...
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Wedding Thank You On Program Wording
MARCH EIGHT: Poetess Poetess TOMARES
During
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During this course, to commemorate the March 8 (International Women's Day) we worked on the life and work of some poets in English.
This morning we attended a ceremony at the school in which five women who write poetry Tomares have recited his verses. Maria Fuertes, Trini Reina, Maria Alves, Pineda Mariló Concha Caro and delighted us with his poems.
Then we had the opportunity to question and debate has been very interesting. The poets have spoken of the freedom they enjoy poetry, expression of feelings of love, which is more than romantic love, ie love of life, ...
act has been a warm and moving, where we have not only learned about poetry. We also understand the strength and passion for life and poetry of these women.
We thank you for your presence in our school.
Subscribe
;-) 
Monday, March 7, 2011
Does Goldenseal Root Clean Drugs From Your System
there
seems that some odors or colors subtly open a crack in this reality of mine. And if I slip I take courage.
Your smile is the key.
As lock, so naturally open and begin to understand, this free air and allows me to fly in this opportunity to peek there.
In this fissure, not me. From this knowledge and presence, I am another creature ... a lucid, winged. With fresh eyes and without prejudice. Dream.
A smile and a gesture that has no evil. I like to go there. Live and think I'm more real. And with those eyes look better. I see everything, and all holding me, I am natural.
Further, my density I fly away and shine, I am not water, sun or bread.
inmaleable am this rigid solid. I move quickly to there, no doubt because my heart is in the crack of reality. I save at any moment if I look out there.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Merilyn Sakova Webcam
TOMARES: MARY STRONG
THE Mascaret
Mascareta
I liked. It looked like a small village with few houses had between them a gap that made them seem like they were watered and apart from the other village houses.
Before entering the Mascareta and left, ran into view with the intense green of the garden, that of the El Carmen. This garden was scented with orange and adorned with oranges. Next to her as if the sun had gone down to earth, was the era! color cover wheat honey and cinnamon. On the right, another garden, that of Quinito, planted of rich vegetables and with her like a sentinel, a basin with a pedestal and on it, a steady stream of water, where they drank the bulls, coming down the sidewalk, wrapped in a cloud of dust came in through the top the Mascareta to the Maestranza. Children
we liked to play on the pylon, beating it with his hands until you feel the clothes wet. The pylon was whitewashed and the bottom was covered with a carpet of greenish slippery so green! ", With bubbly white and transparent, that I liked to squeeze with your fingers. The Mascareta
was a road where nature beauty spilled. On one side of the road, a topsail deep through which flowed the OMW store olives and covered with reeds and brambles. Across a fertile ground calving results. As a child I saw these huge crops: artichoke, cauliflower, cabbage, broccoli and purple leaf falls as suffering ...
the end of the road was the village and in front of the Hacienda Santa Ana, City Hall today, was another source sound to cascade. His playful and noisy water was reflected in the history books. In the beautiful fountain, quench the thirst of travelers, and girls, summer evenings, clean and clear, with the vases in his hands, going to the source water and we sat on the bank of the surrounding bricks . We laughed, played, told stories and, sometimes, the laughter turned into tears, because we started the vase. Leaving the Mascareta
for the top, they were side by side on a sidewalk a very fertile land, but a little misshapen, with ups and downs and plains. On the right an olive grove, White House farm, the Glens Morales, the family and matos Zaudín orchard. On the left, other farms, Cojillo, Cañada Cartuja, high strain. The Glens were caressed by crystal clear waters of a stream. In the center of this nature so generous, as if the earth were pregnant, stood a mound ocher. In his heart were the caves inhabited by people humble, among them two women, one named Ramona and the other Carmen, but called it "the Cat." I remember them as legendary characters.
Very often drunk, begging and sometimes, when they were face to face, had a brawl. These two women had much in common, the two had a bundle dirty and faded. Ramona had been thrown in the back with the weight of atadijo and drunkenness, was walking in a way that putting woes in the throat, seemed to fall forward.
Carmen, "the Cat" had the bundle in his arm. His walk was like the swagger of a heavy plant, the kind that grow in the bend of a road and is rocked by the winds.
A STRONG GLORIA
was like a big girl,
a character in his stories and poems
everyday.
Gordita, face a zero
was all sky,
as the "O" was all heart
and had bangs like children.
His constant
passive as before
of pacifist ideas and clear
in the story says.
Gloria is with all of the library, books,
In hearts, children,
Maria Sarmiento,
the snow man, Mr. Gui, gui,
with Dorotea on the roof with Grandma
fairy Panda
tag,
with the siren in school and the child
Somali. Gloria
has left us strewn with their perfume,
of which dreams are made larger. A few drops of green
hope others simplicity sky blue
and others, red feelings. Subscribe
Mascareta
I liked. It looked like a small village with few houses had between them a gap that made them seem like they were watered and apart from the other village houses.
Before entering the Mascareta and left, ran into view with the intense green of the garden, that of the El Carmen. This garden was scented with orange and adorned with oranges. Next to her as if the sun had gone down to earth, was the era! color cover wheat honey and cinnamon. On the right, another garden, that of Quinito, planted of rich vegetables and with her like a sentinel, a basin with a pedestal and on it, a steady stream of water, where they drank the bulls, coming down the sidewalk, wrapped in a cloud of dust came in through the top the Mascareta to the Maestranza. Children
we liked to play on the pylon, beating it with his hands until you feel the clothes wet. The pylon was whitewashed and the bottom was covered with a carpet of greenish slippery so green! ", With bubbly white and transparent, that I liked to squeeze with your fingers. The Mascareta
was a road where nature beauty spilled. On one side of the road, a topsail deep through which flowed the OMW store olives and covered with reeds and brambles. Across a fertile ground calving results. As a child I saw these huge crops: artichoke, cauliflower, cabbage, broccoli and purple leaf falls as suffering ...
the end of the road was the village and in front of the Hacienda Santa Ana, City Hall today, was another source sound to cascade. His playful and noisy water was reflected in the history books. In the beautiful fountain, quench the thirst of travelers, and girls, summer evenings, clean and clear, with the vases in his hands, going to the source water and we sat on the bank of the surrounding bricks . We laughed, played, told stories and, sometimes, the laughter turned into tears, because we started the vase. Leaving the Mascareta
for the top, they were side by side on a sidewalk a very fertile land, but a little misshapen, with ups and downs and plains. On the right an olive grove, White House farm, the Glens Morales, the family and matos Zaudín orchard. On the left, other farms, Cojillo, Cañada Cartuja, high strain. The Glens were caressed by crystal clear waters of a stream. In the center of this nature so generous, as if the earth were pregnant, stood a mound ocher. In his heart were the caves inhabited by people humble, among them two women, one named Ramona and the other Carmen, but called it "the Cat." I remember them as legendary characters.
Very often drunk, begging and sometimes, when they were face to face, had a brawl. These two women had much in common, the two had a bundle dirty and faded. Ramona had been thrown in the back with the weight of atadijo and drunkenness, was walking in a way that putting woes in the throat, seemed to fall forward.
Carmen, "the Cat" had the bundle in his arm. His walk was like the swagger of a heavy plant, the kind that grow in the bend of a road and is rocked by the winds.
A STRONG GLORIA
was like a big girl,
a character in his stories and poems
everyday.
Gordita, face a zero
was all sky,
as the "O" was all heart
and had bangs like children.
His constant
passive as before
of pacifist ideas and clear
in the story says.
Gloria is with all of the library, books,
In hearts, children,
Maria Sarmiento,
the snow man, Mr. Gui, gui,
with Dorotea on the roof with Grandma
fairy Panda
tag,
with the siren in school and the child
Somali. Gloria
has left us strewn with their perfume,
of which dreams are made larger. A few drops of green
hope others simplicity sky blue
and others, red feelings. Subscribe
Insurance Agreement Template
Poet taking: TRINI QUEEN
Night inclement. The porch
two cats meowing and curling
thunder. The wind whipped
shutters and howl, tearing
the vastness of silence.
tune on the asphalt cars.
In the distance a dog begging. Footsteps
mortify the road, and some keys
fall to the ground.
rain hums with unflagging encouragement
and full night progresses.
wet
paced and slow pendulum. Sleeps
owls and witches,
more than he mocks the dream.
The bed is a wasteland;
sheets, cold journey.
The absence does not occupy space, only pierces
breasts.
hearts and enslaves
and bone trephine. Height
early harvest.
Cats doubled their regret. The wind quieted
decrees,
and continues, still raining. AIR
air quickly takes on the flags,
estuaries and ashes.
Va
zigzagging roofs and between the sheets plays his mazurka
undecided. Take
air rush into the sands,
scapulars and vineyards.
And play to tickling
in
-white bellies of swallows. Take
air rush you feel
in
oscillating nature of your smile. Subscribe
;-) To celebrate the March 8, International Women's day, we are studying the life and work of some English and Latin American poets: Gloria Fuertes, M ª Elena Walsh, Concha Mendez, Rosalia de Castro , Gabriela Mistral, Juana Castro, ...
is also interesting to know and appreciate closer to poets, who keep women from taking a treasure in the form of verses.
Some of them will be in our school on Tuesday to recite some of his poems. Then you can read a Trini Reina. There will also be the presence of Mary Strong, Mariló Pineda and Concha Caro. NIGHT
Night inclement. The porch
two cats meowing and curling
thunder. The wind whipped
shutters and howl, tearing
the vastness of silence.
tune on the asphalt cars.
In the distance a dog begging. Footsteps
mortify the road, and some keys
fall to the ground.
rain hums with unflagging encouragement
and full night progresses.
wet
paced and slow pendulum. Sleeps
owls and witches,
more than he mocks the dream.
The bed is a wasteland;
sheets, cold journey.
The absence does not occupy space, only pierces
breasts.
hearts and enslaves
and bone trephine. Height
early harvest.
Cats doubled their regret. The wind quieted
decrees,
and continues, still raining. AIR
air quickly takes on the flags,
estuaries and ashes.
Va
zigzagging roofs and between the sheets plays his mazurka
undecided. Take
air rush into the sands,
scapulars and vineyards.
And play to tickling
in
-white bellies of swallows. Take
air rush you feel
in
oscillating nature of your smile. Subscribe
;-) 
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