Church Welcome Note Sample

Lights escape as rays of contention.

Broken Dreams on the sidewalk of a hot day.

Blood poured into a black glass and sharp.

Three strikes on the surface of pale skin.

An echo him opens his eyes and see the destruction of itself.

feel free. Nothing the Moors.

never dreamed again.

And the world turned in a room of mirrors: no images, no forms, no shadows.

LE

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Today

I've loved for good reason. Without reason. I loved her dearly and with lack or excess of it.
I cried for love and laugh through it. I
blinded eyes looking outside, dreaming of laughter outside, feeling an echo imaginary one I love that never existed.
Someone has cried for me, and I brought the tears.
I pronounced names during the morning bath-different names with varying intensity. I wanted to have some, and perhaps (at least someone) wanted to have me.
More than once I said "I miss you." And others I have answered "me too you."

But this time I do not want to find "I love you" dull, bright eyes and caresses false.

Now I refuse to look .

From now wait for someone to find me. What a treasure hunter look under the cloth under the skin under warm bodies under the drops blood under the salty sweat and sighs of the lung.

From today I will not look to the side and let go of attachments. And see if some interesting dive under the fabric, under the skin under warm bodies under the drops of blood under the salty sweat and sighs of the lung.

From now close my eyes to love and just open my arms to say goodbye kisses, while some adventure with sword and shield of silver is in under the fabric, under the skin under warm bodies under the drops of blood under the salty sweat and sighs of the lung.

"I love the love of sailors kiss and go ..."

And I love the love my heart gives itself.

I just keep shining, waiting like a treasure.

LE

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The waves ....

Sometimes life is so much like sea ...

Waves come and go ... and like the sea, in one of those waves, you find people and run happy, bouncy, frothy ... Other

with temper and abruptly ....

Sometimes gentle, arriving exhausted at the beach, just to lick the shore and back.

There are people taking relaxing, or soothing, or something even stronger to continue. To me, that is produced by the sea. Their sound, smell, taste, its moisture ... acting on me like a battery charger.

very day, coming down the boardwalk, I could not escape the luxury of putting off my shoes and my feet in the sand, that was my first intention, and I ended up walking along the shore, wet pants, and shoes in hand ...

And of course .... mp3 with this song I put here is not my Biscay, so often missed, nor the Mediterranean, which I have the privilege of living is the Atlantic Ocean, mighty and brave as few .. . All seas have their charm, but ... green color that makes you my Cantabrian with that power you have, not change it for any ....

Tiffany Towers And Friens

More than a year ...

already more than a year that some crazy Internet, we decided to open a blog, and ... here we .

Since that ... things have changed, but the friendship continues.

We have changed ... things in life, day by day. But the ties that began this journey, there are still, and know that real luxury is still there ... your right next and that although they have their problems, You are always giving encouragement and aide you need, trying to get you a smile when they walk on the verge of tears or tired ..

Today, after more than a year in these parts, and three years of knowledge, I have to admit I'm a little person more fortunate than to have legal people to a fault, with a huge fund at all times ... B & G

For all these times, and all those smiles that got me out every day ... It loves you, and much, what you know ....

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Txalaparta ...

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resumes ...

resumes ...

travel again

flying with my mind numb

on sun-drenched fields,

raging seas by the wind,

on the mane of the clouds under a blue sky.

resumes ...

run to you again

magic wings on my feet

with thick forests of birch,

by mountains of haughty rock immortal

the deserts of the night and the steppes of dawn.

resumes ...

see you again before me with my eyes

spellbound in oak caressing wind,

in the foam of the wave hitting the coast,

on Lake of the pagans where bonfires are lit.

resumes ...

be with you again with our arms linked

for souls to be in this one,

to our hearts love the warm outbreak,

for our lips together and life is based on a kiss.

resumes for waking

this with you again my love,

but meanwhile I'm still single

and lost in doubt.

Myrdhin of

Tirith

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... autumn arrives ...

The nights grow shorter, the mornings are cool, the wind is stronger and the leaves of the trees with these earthy tones ... van carpeting the ground.

is the season I like the clouds will fill the sky, at least in my country.

In which I am now ... the harder you fall into, and lasts less, I always said that in the south there is nothing more than two seasons, summer and winter.

miss my fall, their sepia tones in the sky that color mixed with green lovesick My Cantabrian ... is a feast for the senses.

....

How pervasive is the end of the day in the fall! Ay! Penetrating to pain! For there is in him certain bliss, not less intense vague and there is no more steely edge that of the infinite.

large Delight the eyes drown in the immensity of sky and sea! Solitude, silence, chastity of cerulean incomparable! A candle girl, trembling on the horizon, mimetic, in its smallness and isolation of my existence hopeless, monotonous melody of the waves, all that thinks for me, or me for it, because in the greatness of wandering lost self-presto, think, say, but musically and picturesquely, without quibbling, no syllogisms, without deductions.

Such thoughts, however, and out of me, whether arising from things too quickly charge intensity. The energy in the pleasure creates discomfort and suffering positive. My nerves, tired braces, but vibrations are not shrill, painful.

And now the depth of the sky I am dismayed, I exasperate its clarity. The insensitivity of the sea, immutable show infuriates me ... Ay! Is force ever suffer or escape from eternal beauty? Nature charming, ruthless, always victorious rival, let me! Do not tempt more to my wishes and my pride! The study of beauty is a duel in which the artist cries out in terror before falling due.

Charles Baudelaire

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If I look tired .... Vera Carvalho da

If I look tired off the path, and almost powerless
to make way, if you see me feeling
that life is hard,
because I can not, because I do not follow. Come

remember as a beginning.
Come and challenge me ... .. your challenge.
Muéveme the soul, impulse
me again,
take me to myself.

I know
turn my lamp in the dark time between the cold wind,
again be fire from embers still,
to enlighten and revive my pilgrim walk. Back to whisper


that slogan from the first step for a beginning. Show
claw
needed to rise from the fallen.

If I look tired off the path,
no more space than the earth, brings
I recall that there are bridges, there are also
wings, we have not seen.

we going armed with faith and courage, we will always
what we believe. That we are warriors
full life,
everything leads us to our site
in a first step, and a new commitment,
leads to the form of not being defeated.

the tree bends, shakes, shakes,
defoliated and sprouts, but it remains upright.
That the only stretch that gives
forward is one that covers our foot extended.

If I look tired off the path,
lonely and sad broken and wounded,
sit beside me, hold my hands, my eyes
enters into my cache ...

and tell me ... you can! ... and insists, we can! ...
until I understand that I can as well . Let your voice

wake from your certainty,
tired that he fell asleep.
And maybe if you want, lend me your arms,
to join, new and determined.

That the union is
triumph when we
shoulder to shoulder with the same verve.

If I look tired off the path, my gaze

leads your way.
Let me see the tracks, which further are marked,
one step after another the way you came.

And will you one morning,
the insistent voice for a new beginning, which opens another direction

just because I have always believed that ... we can!
can! Can!

My Friend!

Vera Carvalho da

Thanks to all those friends I have around me, for trusting in me more than myself. And for always being there ... at the precise moment that I needed.

I always had the good fortune to have with them at any time, and that, nowadays ... is a luxury.

you want to be, as you may know ....

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flew in front of me and landed on the desk. Was white, unmarked, no dyes, nothing but a gray line on the edge that would frame the words that there would be written.

Why blank other owner failed and stopped in front of my eyes.

That's a question I would a thousand times while the blade is kept there still, waiting, pleading to be filled with words, phrases, ideas of a beautiful mind starting-again-to see the sunlight.

My hand took the pen and stopped a millimeter of the leaf. On my forehead down a bead of sweat, and my eyes closed looking magnámina that concentration of a writer when he must find the first word.

(That's a huge secret, but the first word is what defines whether you write is a masterpiece, or rather something bland that it was written to forget. Another phrase that will not be in the collective memory and to be dumped in the trash along with food waste, the toilet paper and report cards those little things that should be discarded.)

But the more I looked into every nook and cranny of memories, ideas, of memories of a million stories I wanted to tell, I could not find that word: WORD, which change my life forever and make me an established writer.

However, when I had given up and left again on the desktop pencil and white sheet as immaculate as a few hours ago, a spark of light illuminated my mind. I figured I did not know about eyes, I felt a whisper ice run down my neck, I saw hands that were not mine relaxing my muscles temple.

And there it was.

was there.

The Inspiration of a new life.

You.

I took the pen and wrote:

"I never find you ..."

LE

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My inner world

I close my eyes and find my inner world.

In this world the grass is pink and small walk the trails feet away from the eyes.

There are eyes everywhere: the leaves are eye drops are the eyes, the sun is a great eye that blinks, looks at me and nods.

If I advance and let the sun warm my body oval, I laugh, millions of laughs around me and make me smile at the same time, inviting me to form a single song with them.

And besides that there are words, many words, all those in a beautiful English that cover the trunks of trees, which are blurred in the ocean waves, which form sentences in heaven, forcing me to recall them as I walk, mesmerized .

"Sighs escape from her strawberry mouth"

"butterfly dream you were my soul ...

and you look like a sad "

" As light waves to kiss

ignites the heart, "

.

.

My imaginary world is so rich in energy, love, feelings. Is so intense that even trying to hide it can not fail to appear. It's so wonderful that I alone, and nobody but me can understand.

love my inner world.

LE

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... wandering ...

wander
Meaning ...

• separate and apart from the main topic of spoken or written. (normal thing in me ...)
• disorderly or speak or write without a purpose. (I practice every day ...)
• Think of several things on without order, purpose or specific reason. (That's not normal
• ?...) Worship: Wandering, wandering. (anda. .. because I did not know that was so cultured ...)

Ramble ... for me always meant ... let out your dreams, daydream, escape the harsh reality around you, make a nod to the life and navigate between neurons rioting, let out what's inside without any order or control ...

Although it seems somewhat chaotic ... the vast majority of the time, you get out something specific. An orderly disorder, much like life itself, but ... that makes you smile and take a look with a little hope around you.

makes you keep fighting in life, which is a lot. I always said that things were not ordered for me I prefer my disorder within it ... find what I want, even ....
myself

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Rain

Today I got off the mic and felt the gentle rain falling on me. A rain so thin that it does not wet, and bathe only droplets.

I looked at the sky and stopped for a second. I opened my mouth and let this rain-blessed rain that comes to clean the ravages of winter, "slinks into my mouth and cleanse me.

It looks beautiful in the rain around the trees ahead of the spring. Right now I have in my hand one of the flowers of these trees, five white petals and a pale pink center.



After admiring the landscape smiled.



God bless the spring

LE