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The stillness in summer, of Sunday's past- as is moments- bygone days that could never last Un dimanche d'ete 1885 by Georgs Seurat http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sunday_Afternoon_on_the_Island_of_La_Grande_Jatte

Copyright © | Year Posted 2009




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Date: 5/11/2009 7:19:00 AM
Very imaginative write ... brings the antithesis of the icicle holdover in summer and staring at the eye. Love it!
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Date: 5/9/2009 7:28:00 PM
This is a succulent masterpiece ... phrasing and style succint and complete. Bravo, Brian, thanks the lessons and the encouragement ... I am proud to call you friend.
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Date: 5/9/2009 6:14:00 PM
Hi Brian Very thought provoking....The seasons of life change so fast that's for sure. Your poem will make me stop and appreciate this summer a little more I think. Thanks for sharing. Love Light Truth Patricia
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Date: 5/9/2009 9:00:00 AM
Nothing ever does, last that is. Lucky we have those able to capture moments past with their art. All arts. Beautiful poem. Love, Shar
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Date: 5/9/2009 6:39:00 AM
There is a sense of peacefulness (if only we could put it into a bottle to keep on hand). Nice one, Brian! ~ Best Wishes, Carrie
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Date: 5/9/2009 5:49:00 AM
Excellent writing brother Brian..i can see and feel the beauty in this piece.
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Date: 5/9/2009 4:57:00 AM
Ca c'est tres joli =) thank you for sharing... Always, Farah
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Date: 5/9/2009 12:54:00 AM
Lovely ekphrasis Brian, I left you some soup mail...Raul
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