Kinkade Foxglove Cottage

One of the depiction of portrait that pleases the eyes of many.

The song of cicadae from afar, awakes the song of nature to be par, so does the roadside passing car...

The Recipe of Gold

Different ways of cooking have done on this uncommon fermented soybeans, or known as "tempe" to the locals. It has been known to be exotic to many. Dried chillies, onions, and garlics has been mixed to be near perfect concoction of paste to taste. Yet still, the taste has been blended into flawless state. The sauteed tempe of gold was cooked with the paste and will give this recipe of gold.

It may have the peculiar taste not known to many, best described to have the taste of mushroom and nut blend. Physically looked peculiar yet cause minor goosebumps to some, as best described to be seen like a cooked honeycombs.

Tale of Mediaeval Musick

Note: The old Shakespearean English may cause confusion with modern English.

_.-~*~-._

The exquisite musick, dully echoes, as far to the "ears", in Apthe Forest.
D'livered music message, that of “love letter”, tendered hearts of insomniac, to the fullest.

Inland cavalero of Castilian, in his cage of decades, in custody, with musical knowledge, interpreted "Mit ganczem Willen", understood. That, our tongue known as "With All My Heart I Wish You", giving a mediaeval picture, of romantic condolement.

Within, wards are in convive, commoners' dishes, unconcious of most sounds. Yet, people of cages, fed on almost, clack-dishes.

Meantime outside, chucks as though performing a cinque pace, undisturbed, portraying that cavalero's beloved was singing chanson of Mit ganczem Willen, with high treble cliff.

Whilst in cage, nameless cavalero, having chewit, no cowish, carved his characters onto wall, of unheard lyrics, for posterity.

His beloved, has childing one decade ago. Their nine-yeared knave, awaits for common mediaeval clash. Though cavalero clings, clack-dishes remain untouched. He suffered to home poynt, of that circumstance, with cracker and undertaker. Cracker credited to generous, then to high ordinance, brought him into darkness, put him under a crare, for countless decades.

A crownet sounded afar, his time is nigh, to done to death, with his cock-and-pie delivered, inevitable hest, death succeed, with a fox of argentine, blood-boltered. Seen by his beloved's very eyes.

Death of cavalero, baffled his beloved. All haps were hented, including her barm, his later juvenal, was unheard since. With no noble, her life was eager, being harried, forced be a bona-roba, drab, harlot, hiren, of all brothels. She had her foison of drolleries from above.

Her eld, a recluse in dearn, virginalling her sullen Mit ganczem Willen, craving for her lethe. Lyrics of threne were lost, a song without words, remains until now, or maybe eterne...

_.-~*~-._

Tale scripted is owned by the author, all rights reserved.

Romantic Story of Henry VIII

As the promises kept in heart of gold, yet to be released freedom of bold, for eyes of many but mood of old, shall not express it here, at least it is now to hear...

King Henry VIII's (debated) song o' love in Renaissance, according to people's nuisance, in which lute and soprano voice that one list'ns, the notes, pleasantly enter into ear, not even it is near.



Handsome, gifted and recently married to Catherine of Aragon, King Henry VIII was the envy of Europe when he penned 35 royal compositions in the early years of his long and turbulent reign. Truly a Renaissance prince, he was also a gifted composer who excelled in portraying the pleasures of courtly life through words and music. His daughter, Elizabeth, inherited his gifts, and was a keen dancer and an excellent performer on the virginals.

The old song Greensleeves is a traditional English folk song dating back to the sixteenth century. There has been considerable debate regarding the identity of the composer of the lyrics and music or melody of the song Greensleeves. The most popular belief about the identity of the composer relates to the legend that the words and lyrics of the song were written for Anne Boleyn (1502-1536) by King Henry VIII (1491-1547) during their turbulent courtship. Anne, the youngest daughter of Thomas Boleyn, First Earl of Wiltshire, rejected Henry's attempts to seduce her. This rejection is apparently referred to in the song, when the writer's love "cast me off discourteously". It is not known if the legend is true, but the song is still commonly associated with Boleyn in the public mind.

Alas, my love, you do me wrong
To cast me off discourteously
For I have loved you well and long
Delighting in your company.

_.-~*~-._
Greensleeves was all my joy
Greensleeves was my delight
Greensleeves was my heart of gold
And who but my lady Greensleeves

Your vows you've broken, like my heart
Oh, why did you so enrapture me
Now I remain in a world apart
But my heart remains in captivity

_.-~*~-._

I have been ready at your hand,
To grant whatever you would crave,
I have both wagered life and land,
Your love and good-will for to have.

_.-~*~-._

If you intend thus to disdain,
It does the more enrapture me,
And even so, I still remain
A lover in captivity.

_.-~*~-._

Ah, Greensleeves, now farewell, adieu,
To God I pray to prosper thee,
For I am still thy lover true,
Come once again and love me.

_.-~*~-._

Fear not!

Time after time, friends helping and supporting me, at least I can die with eyes peacefully shut...

20th Day of Birth

Day of the present, my day of birth, whence light embraces me.
Ironically, summoned darkness to have me.
Of not sparing tyme, our exams say bye...
Deathsayer notes,
"...the end is nigh, I shall die...
...my death is the way, of the minds say..."

My trusty fiere gie's a hand o’ savior, have me be saved.
Words of him notes,
"Sorrow flooded my heart's core,
In it I found pieces of glasses,
Scattered around,
In my ribs they called out:
Save yourselves folks!
Life's a brief candle,
Death is never a solution."

_.-~* Poem I *~-._

Doomsday is near,
But we're here.
We could need a sear
To reduce our fear.

The end is nigh...
Why don't give't a sigh?
At least we've thighs
Like birds soaring high...


Impressed by the disasters, catastrophes, and destructions on Earth, created such helter-skelter and chaos in human. Phenomenas of eclipses, meteor showers are emerging, giving bad omens to many...

Gracious thou 'art

O'er the weekend of thy most, I listen'st to the musick o' English Renaissance by William Byrd. Exampiles, Carman's Whistle, Lord Willobies Welcome Home, Will Yow Walke The Woods Soe Wylde, The Galliarde To The Firste Pavian etc.

Have a nice day, thine!

O Come, O Come, Emmanuel

Excerpt from the mediaeval chants...

O come, O come, Emmanuel
to free your captive Israel
that mourns in lonely exile here
until the son of God appear...

O veni, veni Emmanuel
Captivum solve Israel
qui gemit in exilio
privates Dei Filio

Gaude! Gaude! Emmanuel
nascetur pro te Israel...

And I Leave My Home

'S Fagaim Mo Bhaile

Maidin is tus an lae
'S fagaim mo bhaile.
Ta mo chroise go bron.
'S fada ar shuil m 'oige.

Oiche 's me liom thein...
Speartha dubh go domhain a choich...
Ag ciumhneach ar laetha a bhi...
Gan gha agus gan ghruaim...
Eistim leis an ghaoth...
Uaigneas mor, go deo, a choich...

Deireadh an turas mor...
Taim bronach, buartha 's briste.
I mo dhiaidh nach mbeidh nios mo.
Ach, ta se i ndan duinn, a phaisti...
Ach, ta se i ndan duinn, a phaisti...

Is fada anois an lae.
A dfhag me mo bhaile,
Nil athas i mo chroi.
Nil ann ach an marbh...
Nil ann ach an marbh...

Of Dreams and Hopes

Those whose memories fade seek to carve them in their hearts…

All dreams are but another reality. Never forget…

If those hopes wane seek to shape them in their heart core…

All wishes are but instead truth. Keep in heart…


Meaning
One who has a nostalgic memory that yet to be shared will vanish in time. One has to be keep them in heart as we could have it a flashback, of not having a pang of nostalgia, instead. Dreams can be a reality, as for one has the willpower to seek and to aim, visualize truly in their mind, as if were it be real as errr *mind stuck*... The word of wisdom, hope to have them kept as deep as in the heart core...