<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285757960439179477</id><updated>2011-07-08T04:31:00.654-07:00</updated><title type='text'>¬|ÅMåñTë§ ðå £µå|¨¬-®</title><subtitle type='html'>"Tenho fases, como a lua 
Fases de andar escondida, 
fases de vir para a rua... 
Perdição da minha vida! 
Perdição da vida minha! 
Tenho fases de ser tua, 
tenho outras de ser sozinha."

Cecília Meireles</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suspirolunar.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6285757960439179477/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suspirolunar.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>MeninaDe£ua</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15003089854940397337</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SEZmwwAYnuI/AAAAAAAAAO0/rt2lY61Oo8c/S220/1209050165.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285757960439179477.post-4119029637112043674</id><published>2010-01-08T10:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-08T10:22:52.194-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Para o Amor...o meu Amor.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/RwOA4Ijz9JI/AAAAAAAAABs/NVqPYwNZBgE/s1600-h/cartas-thumb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117075303481734290" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/RwOA4Ijz9JI/AAAAAAAAABs/NVqPYwNZBgE/s400/cartas-thumb.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;&lt;em&gt;Céu de £ua Cheia, 01 de outubro de 2007&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;&lt;em&gt;                                                     Amor...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;&lt;em&gt; Há dias que minha cabeça vem sofismando sobre um mesmo tema.Vira e volta e o pensamento perturbante não me sai da caramiola,e é sobre ele que tentarei falar um pouco,sobre o Amor,sentimento supremo que uni os corações e faz o mundo ainda mais flórido e cheio de graça,vou falar um pouco sobre Você.&lt;br /&gt;    Li.&lt;br /&gt;    Reli.&lt;br /&gt;    Busquei.&lt;br /&gt;    Fui em Vínicius,Gregório,Nietzsche,Machado,Aristóteles e Platão.&lt;br /&gt;    Fui aos meus grandes mestres e nada.&lt;br /&gt;    Li Clarice,Gandhi,Madre Teresa,Pessoa,Rubem,mesmo assim não consegui obter a resposta que queria.&lt;br /&gt;    Pus-me a pensar ainda mais sobre a significância do Amor.&lt;br /&gt;    De como ,quando,como e o por que ele acontece?&lt;br /&gt;O que justificaria a existência dele e quais os motivos nos leva a encher-nos de felicidade pela existência do outro,sem que tenha algo de concreto e plausível;algo que fosse justificado pela razão,ou pela emoção.&lt;br /&gt;Do desejo de de repente sentir a necessidade de compartilhar algo ainda mais grandioso com um outro alguém,que acaba por se tornar um céu iluminado com todas as cores.&lt;br /&gt;    Um Alguém que faz rir e na ausência faz chorar de tanta saudade.&lt;br /&gt;Que me faz sentir sozinha em meio a uma multidão,quando privada de tua alegria transcendida para forma de ser de luz,porque é assim que o Amor faz-se ver,como Luz.&lt;br /&gt;De prescindir ouvir a voz e as gargalhadas,tocar suas mãos e sua boca deliciosa,cheirar seu corpo sempre me convidando pra momentos inesqueciveis de prazer;Alguém que apareceu do nadae fez-se parte de um todo indisoluvel.&lt;br /&gt;Alguém(e esse alguém não é indefinido,é o meu Amor)que deixa meus olhos molhados pela emoção de ver seu sorriso maroto e malicioso ao mesmo tempo,pela delícia de saber que você existe.&lt;br /&gt;Esse Amor é um Menino,que preenche os "nossos"(falo nosso porque no Amor sempre se compartilha tudo)dias com sua alegria contagiante,com seu jeito doce,sua capacidade de fazer entender que "tudo vale a pena quando a alma não é pequena".&lt;br /&gt;Um Homem,que sabe se impor,se deixar entender;que acarícia o coração,fala coisas da vida;que não deixa a criança que existe dentro de si,mas impõe o desejo e racionaliza no momento certo,e que sabe como nenhum outro agradar sua mulher,mimá-la de uma forma inigualável.&lt;br /&gt;    Um Amigo que sabe consolar e ponderar com as inquietações presentes no meu coração e espírito.&lt;br /&gt;Um Macho viril,imponente,que expõe seus desejos mais íntimos;que queima de tesão e de prazer por sua fêmea;que é cheio de desejos,delirios,devaneios e fantasias pela mulher desejada.&lt;br /&gt;Ai...nem sei como explicar todos esses Homens num só Amor...tanta emoção vivida e sentida,por isso busquei ler e tentar descobrir porquê meu coração bate mais rápido na tua presença.&lt;br /&gt;Entender,que os momentos que passo com o Amor são ainda mais felizes que os demais;saber porque me faz um bem danando,me alivia o espírito,exercita deliciosamente meus músculos faciais e o cardíaco.&lt;br /&gt;Então acabei descobrindo,que eu não precisava buscar respostas,nem tentar explicar,o que tenho é que viver os nossos momentos,que são sempre inesqueciveis e cheios de nós mesmos.&lt;br /&gt;Para se amar alguém e se viver um grande amor não deve haver pressupostos,nem tampouco se buscar explicações,deve-se apenas doar um coração cheio de bons sentimentos,sinceros e uma amizade cumplice que tudo pode fazer acontecer.&lt;br /&gt;Talvez o melhor sentimento que o outro pode despertar dentro de cada um de nós,é a capacidade de amar com liberdade e plenamente.&lt;br /&gt;   Por tudo isso,e muitas outras coisinhas deliciosas,que você sabe muito bem é que posso,agora,com certeza te dizer:&lt;br /&gt;    EU TE AMO MUIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITO E É DE GRAÇA!!!! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;&lt;em&gt;                      beijos quentes em você todinhoooooooooooo...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;&lt;em&gt;                                                                  £uaDoAmorEmDelírios.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;&lt;em&gt;"O Amor acontece quando você é capaz de sair de si,para encontrar o outro"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/RwOElojz9KI/AAAAAAAAAB0/r8yAXd8_Kec/s1600-h/amorrrr.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/RwOElojz9KI/AAAAAAAAAB0/r8yAXd8_Kec/s400/amorrrr.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117079383700665506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6285757960439179477-4119029637112043674?l=suspirolunar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suspirolunar.blogspot.com/feeds/4119029637112043674/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6285757960439179477&amp;postID=4119029637112043674' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6285757960439179477/posts/default/4119029637112043674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6285757960439179477/posts/default/4119029637112043674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suspirolunar.blogspot.com/2010/01/para-o-amoro-meu-amor.html' title='Para o Amor...o meu Amor.'/><author><name>MeninaDe£ua</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15003089854940397337</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SEZmwwAYnuI/AAAAAAAAAO0/rt2lY61Oo8c/S220/1209050165.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/RwOA4Ijz9JI/AAAAAAAAABs/NVqPYwNZBgE/s72-c/cartas-thumb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285757960439179477.post-897254933952856442</id><published>2009-06-14T08:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T08:40:09.767-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Existência de £uz</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SjUYcyofyjI/AAAAAAAAAgM/CjGiu5yEdaA/s1600-h/ouou.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347207015479364146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SjUYcyofyjI/AAAAAAAAAgM/CjGiu5yEdaA/s320/ouou.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Existem pessoas que preenchem momentos vazios...&lt;br /&gt;Outras que preenchem uma cama...&lt;br /&gt;Ainda existem aquelas que tentam preencher um lugar que não é seu...&lt;br /&gt;E existe você...que preenche minha existência de felicidade.&lt;br /&gt;Todos os instantes que passo ao teu lado me tornam ainda melhor e fazem meu coração desejar sempre mais.&lt;br /&gt;Os momentos divididos com você...são sempre grandes...significativos...&lt;br /&gt;inenarravelmente nossos.&lt;br /&gt;Quisera eu,poder privar de ti...por todos os momentos de minha vida...os grandes e os menores...&lt;br /&gt;Definir-me contigo...seria impossivel...&lt;br /&gt;Sentir-me ao teu lado,é conhecer um pouquinho do paraiso.&lt;br /&gt;Você...minhas melhores palavras...&lt;br /&gt;Eu...um pouco do tudo que você representa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J.®...às 12:43...14/06/2009&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6285757960439179477-897254933952856442?l=suspirolunar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suspirolunar.blogspot.com/feeds/897254933952856442/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6285757960439179477&amp;postID=897254933952856442' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6285757960439179477/posts/default/897254933952856442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6285757960439179477/posts/default/897254933952856442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suspirolunar.blogspot.com/2009/06/existencia-de-uz.html' title='Existência de £uz'/><author><name>MeninaDe£ua</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15003089854940397337</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SEZmwwAYnuI/AAAAAAAAAO0/rt2lY61Oo8c/S220/1209050165.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SjUYcyofyjI/AAAAAAAAAgM/CjGiu5yEdaA/s72-c/ouou.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285757960439179477.post-5247832153818100622</id><published>2009-06-13T14:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T14:07:07.997-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Olhar...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SjQUo6PfjJI/AAAAAAAAAfo/PZvNixXmbkk/s1600-h/9442072.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346921350657182866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 247px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SjQUo6PfjJI/AAAAAAAAAfo/PZvNixXmbkk/s320/9442072.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quero apenas cinco coisas.. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Primeiro é o amor sem fim &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A segunda é ver o outono &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A terceira é o grave inverno &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Em quarto lugar o verão &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A quinta coisa são teus olhos &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não quero dormir sem teus olhos. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não quero ser... sem que me olhes. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Abro mão da primavera para que continues me olhando.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a class="autor" href="http://www.pensador.info/autor/Pablo_Neruda/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pablo Neruda&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6285757960439179477-5247832153818100622?l=suspirolunar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suspirolunar.blogspot.com/feeds/5247832153818100622/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6285757960439179477&amp;postID=5247832153818100622' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6285757960439179477/posts/default/5247832153818100622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6285757960439179477/posts/default/5247832153818100622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suspirolunar.blogspot.com/2009/06/olhar.html' title='Olhar...'/><author><name>MeninaDe£ua</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15003089854940397337</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SEZmwwAYnuI/AAAAAAAAAO0/rt2lY61Oo8c/S220/1209050165.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SjQUo6PfjJI/AAAAAAAAAfo/PZvNixXmbkk/s72-c/9442072.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285757960439179477.post-1102760162010229462</id><published>2009-05-01T09:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-01T09:39:54.538-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Simplesmente...£'amour...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/Sfslapv6jnI/AAAAAAAAAfI/yE4vxJmoJF4/s1600-h/20071011221850-amor-rev.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330895723736764018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 296px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/Sfslapv6jnI/AAAAAAAAAfI/yE4vxJmoJF4/s320/20071011221850-amor-rev.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eu poderia falar em recomeço,mas como,se não existiu o fim.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A cada momento que passa,uma certeza norteia meu ser,impossível deixar de te amar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Esquecer os momentos de amor vividos...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As manhãs...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As tardes...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As noites...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;E até as madrugadas de entrega...amor...loucuras e desejos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não existem suspiros finais,para aquilo que nos faz bem.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não há adeus para o amor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Deve-se apenas se entregar totalmente...sem receios...somente a doação total.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;£'amour...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6285757960439179477-1102760162010229462?l=suspirolunar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suspirolunar.blogspot.com/feeds/1102760162010229462/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6285757960439179477&amp;postID=1102760162010229462' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6285757960439179477/posts/default/1102760162010229462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6285757960439179477/posts/default/1102760162010229462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suspirolunar.blogspot.com/2009/05/simplesmenteamour.html' title='Simplesmente...£&apos;amour...'/><author><name>MeninaDe£ua</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15003089854940397337</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SEZmwwAYnuI/AAAAAAAAAO0/rt2lY61Oo8c/S220/1209050165.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/Sfslapv6jnI/AAAAAAAAAfI/yE4vxJmoJF4/s72-c/20071011221850-amor-rev.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285757960439179477.post-179677907598688041</id><published>2009-04-23T10:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T11:11:30.042-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Impossibilidades</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SfCvS7Y92hI/AAAAAAAAAeo/ldpUGs-9N4Q/s1600-h/1317546.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327951098894211602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SfCvS7Y92hI/AAAAAAAAAeo/ldpUGs-9N4Q/s320/1317546.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Todas as vezes que eu quis deixar...imaginei você ainda mais perto de mim.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pensei em sair quieta...mas o eco existente da tua ausência, gritava forte e dolorido.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dolorido amanhecer sem teu olhar...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Passar os dias sem teu sorriso...sem tua alegria contagiante...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Impossível existir sem te amar incondicionalmente.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Amar-te é ter a certeza que tudo pode ser maior.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6285757960439179477-179677907598688041?l=suspirolunar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suspirolunar.blogspot.com/feeds/179677907598688041/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6285757960439179477&amp;postID=179677907598688041' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6285757960439179477/posts/default/179677907598688041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6285757960439179477/posts/default/179677907598688041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suspirolunar.blogspot.com/2009/04/impossibilidades.html' title='Impossibilidades'/><author><name>MeninaDe£ua</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15003089854940397337</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SEZmwwAYnuI/AAAAAAAAAO0/rt2lY61Oo8c/S220/1209050165.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SfCvS7Y92hI/AAAAAAAAAeo/ldpUGs-9N4Q/s72-c/1317546.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285757960439179477.post-917764504031287728</id><published>2008-10-19T17:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T18:01:22.752-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Suspiro final.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SPvYUvPK1fI/AAAAAAAAAVE/I00vpj0p3Pg/s1600-h/vazio.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259034840674260466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SPvYUvPK1fI/AAAAAAAAAVE/I00vpj0p3Pg/s320/vazio.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Não há passos...&lt;br /&gt;Não há lamentos...&lt;br /&gt;Não há vento...&lt;br /&gt;Não há gritos.&lt;br /&gt;Só o silêncio ensurdecedor da tua ausência teima em me perseguir,em me fazer sentir falta de mim mesma...&lt;br /&gt;Há momentos,em que no entanto,o melhor é fechar-se...&lt;br /&gt;Não para a fuga...mas para o reencontro.&lt;br /&gt;A estação?&lt;br /&gt;Ficou para trás;a locomotiva está sempre em movimento.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Jacy.® &lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259032237127016402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SPvV9MRIn9I/AAAAAAAAAU0/BnjtV0jtfIY/s200/linha-thumb.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;18/09/2008&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6285757960439179477-917764504031287728?l=suspirolunar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suspirolunar.blogspot.com/feeds/917764504031287728/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6285757960439179477&amp;postID=917764504031287728' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6285757960439179477/posts/default/917764504031287728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6285757960439179477/posts/default/917764504031287728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suspirolunar.blogspot.com/2008/10/suspiro-final.html' title='Suspiro final.'/><author><name>MeninaDe£ua</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15003089854940397337</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SEZmwwAYnuI/AAAAAAAAAO0/rt2lY61Oo8c/S220/1209050165.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SPvYUvPK1fI/AAAAAAAAAVE/I00vpj0p3Pg/s72-c/vazio.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285757960439179477.post-3400237117746539656</id><published>2008-10-19T17:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T17:41:30.484-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Era uma vez "um olhar"...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SPvR5gQgVYI/AAAAAAAAAUc/mhuSd0TeXBY/s1600-h/triste.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259027775727097218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SPvR5gQgVYI/AAAAAAAAAUc/mhuSd0TeXBY/s400/triste.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Quando os olhos perdem o brilho,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não adianta tentar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Perde-se um pouco do outro,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Perde-se um pouco da vida,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ganha-se um pouco de amor próprio.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Perde-se o caminho.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cai-se da ponte.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Perde-se a estação.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As palavras perdem a cor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O sopro de vida esvaie-se.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não há mais porquês.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Chegou então o tempo do outono.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As folhas caem...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Há um sopro frio na alma.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O vento de agora,destrói as lembranças.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As lágrimas que antes eram de alegria e emoção,retratam a tristeza imensa da despedida.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não houve tempo pro adeus.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Resta somente algumas poucas palavras rabiscadas,expostas ao tempo,que teimam em perturbar os pensamentos,mas que logo ficaram apenas no mundo da abstração dos "sonhos",de onde nunca deveriam ter saído...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O retorno?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não mais existe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A amizade?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(...)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Os últimos rabiscos?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(...)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A dor?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cessará um dia.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O destino...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A amiga solidão.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jacy...às 21:40...19/10/2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259028315244963234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SPvSY6HlpaI/AAAAAAAAAUk/-gwnrxfboXQ/s200/Teu%2520olhar.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6285757960439179477-3400237117746539656?l=suspirolunar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suspirolunar.blogspot.com/feeds/3400237117746539656/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6285757960439179477&amp;postID=3400237117746539656' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6285757960439179477/posts/default/3400237117746539656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6285757960439179477/posts/default/3400237117746539656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suspirolunar.blogspot.com/2008/10/era-uma-vez-um-olhar.html' title='Era uma vez &quot;um olhar&quot;...'/><author><name>MeninaDe£ua</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15003089854940397337</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SEZmwwAYnuI/AAAAAAAAAO0/rt2lY61Oo8c/S220/1209050165.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SPvR5gQgVYI/AAAAAAAAAUc/mhuSd0TeXBY/s72-c/triste.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285757960439179477.post-8467678030170068479</id><published>2008-10-16T17:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T17:26:41.127-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sobre Camas e Percursos.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SPfY9y4KIWI/AAAAAAAAAT8/WK2KoAcAg_w/s1600-h/cama.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257909646119280994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SPfY9y4KIWI/AAAAAAAAAT8/WK2KoAcAg_w/s400/cama.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bem...as camas são "seres"que trazem em si a quintura.&lt;br /&gt;Nelas repousam corpos, que o sangue trata de aquecer...&lt;br /&gt;Nelas há vida...&lt;br /&gt;Há desejo...&lt;br /&gt;Há segredos...&lt;br /&gt;Há o quero mais...&lt;br /&gt;Como elas poderiam ser frias??&lt;br /&gt;Jamais poderão ser frias...&lt;br /&gt;Nas camas se fazem conjugaçoes...eu...tu ...nós...&lt;br /&gt;Não!&lt;br /&gt;Elas jamais seriam frias...&lt;br /&gt;Os corações podem querer esfriar...no sopro frio do adeus...&lt;br /&gt;Nas desilusões da vida...&lt;br /&gt;Nas expectativas frustradas...&lt;br /&gt;Nos momentos que deixamos passar em branco...&lt;br /&gt;Mas a cama nunca.&lt;br /&gt;Ela retrata a líbido da vida...os sonhos de cada um...&lt;br /&gt;Nela repousa sempre a esperança de um quero mais...&lt;br /&gt;Nela tem-se a certeza de um novo dia.&lt;br /&gt;A cama é feita pro par...os dois...&lt;br /&gt;Pra se deliciar no mundo dos pensamentos.&lt;br /&gt;Pra entrar em contato consigo...pra viver um amor intenso.&lt;br /&gt;Pra uma noite do mais profundo prazer.&lt;br /&gt;Para se perder um pouco no delicioso convívio consigo ou com o outro.&lt;br /&gt;A cama em nenhum momento será fria.&lt;br /&gt;Ja o percurso é um momento de solidão...&lt;br /&gt;De escolhas...de tomar decisões...&lt;br /&gt;De dizer sim ou não...do "eu"...&lt;br /&gt;Durante o percurso podemos encontrar pessoas,novos caminhos,novas&lt;br /&gt;trilhas,encontrar o diferente,o outro,e podemos nos perder.&lt;br /&gt;Podemos mudar o percurso?&lt;br /&gt;Claro,se não tivermos uma visão conjunta,será cada um olhando pra um horizonte,porquê nesse instante estaremos sós,sem uma direção conjugada.&lt;br /&gt;Quando estamos marcando o passo no compasso do coração,a gente até pode encontrar alguns obstáculos,algumas alternativas,novos caminhos,mas tem-se a certeza que se andará junto,sempre ao lado do que se é essencial,o amor ilimitado e incondicional,porque se põe condição,não é amor.&lt;br /&gt;A cama faz parte do percurso,pois haverá a necessidade do repouso.&lt;br /&gt;O percurso é uma etapa pra se alcançar a quintura da cama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jacy...20:45....16/10/2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SPfYz7kKp-I/AAAAAAAAAT0/AbssljMMNjM/s1600-h/caminhos-de-ng.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257909476652656610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SPfYz7kKp-I/AAAAAAAAAT0/AbssljMMNjM/s320/caminhos-de-ng.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6285757960439179477-8467678030170068479?l=suspirolunar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suspirolunar.blogspot.com/feeds/8467678030170068479/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6285757960439179477&amp;postID=8467678030170068479' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6285757960439179477/posts/default/8467678030170068479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6285757960439179477/posts/default/8467678030170068479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suspirolunar.blogspot.com/2008/10/sobre-camas-e-percursos.html' title='Sobre Camas e Percursos.'/><author><name>MeninaDe£ua</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15003089854940397337</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SEZmwwAYnuI/AAAAAAAAAO0/rt2lY61Oo8c/S220/1209050165.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SPfY9y4KIWI/AAAAAAAAAT8/WK2KoAcAg_w/s72-c/cama.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285757960439179477.post-8972611376852183470</id><published>2008-08-27T17:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T18:28:59.691-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Luz do Sol</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SLX5AMsifqI/AAAAAAAAASk/jMJkoar3iVc/s1600-h/2045340556_442ce561b2_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239367523318791842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SLX5AMsifqI/AAAAAAAAASk/jMJkoar3iVc/s400/2045340556_442ce561b2_m.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Num outro momento,escrevi sobre amigos cometas,e era um em especial a que me referia...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Bem acabara de conhecer,fui acometida por uma indescritível sensação de contentamento intenso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Era como se algo que a muito esperara, tinha chegado...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;mas tive medo de ser apenas um sonho...e escrevi sobre a brevidade dos cometas,e o desejo incontrolável de ter encontrado o Sol.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;O vento soprou mais forte e quase o arrastou de mim...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Fez frio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Depois calor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sorri...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Chorei...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Era noite escura.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E o Sol entrou de vez.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Entendi que, por mais que o tempo esfriasse,eu so sentia calor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Que as lágrimas que as vezes ainda teimam em rolar,não eram mais de solidão,mas de uma profunda saudade,que a ausência física teima em atormentar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Percebi que a cada encontro sempre há uma renovação e verdadeiro desejo de estar juntinho.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Que não importa o tempo,senhor de tudo e de todos,o que sinto é mais forte e profundo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Foi so assim que descobri, que era impossivel  ter encontrado com um cometa,eu tinha encontrado com o Sol,pois o Amor tinha batido a minha porta, para não mais sair.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Por mais que eu não veja o Sol,ele sempre está aquecendo meu coração e iluminando os meus dias.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Hoje descobri também que entre nós aconteceu a fusão do Sol e da £ua.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;J.®......27/08/08....às 21:15&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;h4 class="fr0"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;Amor não é se envolver com a pessoa perfeita,&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SLXzatdQgGI/AAAAAAAAASc/OaKLD7HCJp8/s1600-h/281857920_f04e19c212_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239361381719900258" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SLXzatdQgGI/AAAAAAAAASc/OaKLD7HCJp8/s200/281857920_f04e19c212_m.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aquela dos nossos sonhos.&lt;br /&gt;Não existem príncipes nem princesas.&lt;br /&gt;Encare a outra pessoa de forma sincera e real, exaltando suas qualidades, mas sabendo também de seus defeitos.&lt;br /&gt;O amor só é lindo, quando encontramos alguém que nos transforme no melhor que podemos ser.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;span class="aut"&gt;&lt;a class="autor" href="http://www.pensador.info/autor/Mario_Quintana/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;Mário Quintana&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SLXzLPnZBRI/AAAAAAAAASU/-ykKZ9zduz8/s1600-h/girassois.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239361116011300114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SLXzLPnZBRI/AAAAAAAAASU/-ykKZ9zduz8/s200/girassois.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt; &lt;span style="color:black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;"Ainda que eu fale as línguas dos homens e&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;dos&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;anjos, se não tiver amor, serei como o bronze que soa, ou como o címbalo que retine&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;?XML:NAMESPACE PREFIX = O /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 7px; TEXT-INDENT: 0px; MARGIN-RIGHT: 7px" align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;O amor é paciente, é benigno, o amor não arde em ciúmes, não se ufana, não se ensoberbece, não se conduz incovenientemente, não procura seus interesses, não se exaspera, não se ressente do mal; não se alegra com a injustiça, mas regozija-se com a verdade. Tudo sofre, tudo crê, tudo espera, tudo suporta.&lt;o:p&gt; "&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pastor,os dias sem você são intermináveis.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6285757960439179477-8972611376852183470?l=suspirolunar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suspirolunar.blogspot.com/feeds/8972611376852183470/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6285757960439179477&amp;postID=8972611376852183470' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6285757960439179477/posts/default/8972611376852183470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6285757960439179477/posts/default/8972611376852183470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suspirolunar.blogspot.com/2008/08/luz-do-sol.html' title='Luz do Sol'/><author><name>MeninaDe£ua</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15003089854940397337</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SEZmwwAYnuI/AAAAAAAAAO0/rt2lY61Oo8c/S220/1209050165.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SLX5AMsifqI/AAAAAAAAASk/jMJkoar3iVc/s72-c/2045340556_442ce561b2_m.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285757960439179477.post-735740261710779898</id><published>2008-06-13T11:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T11:58:10.163-07:00</updated><title type='text'>As respostas com o  Amor.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SFLAogVbmkI/AAAAAAAAARE/8U1fJf1isXg/s1600-h/livre.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211439520928209474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SFLAogVbmkI/AAAAAAAAARE/8U1fJf1isXg/s400/livre.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Livre!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Menina.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Moleca.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mulher.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cheia de vida.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Em estado de graça.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Amada.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Querida.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Desejada.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Única.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Muitas.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SFLAM213zsI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/qQuPcpsHjkA/s1600-h/arco.JPG"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211439045933518530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SFLAM213zsI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/qQuPcpsHjkA/s400/arco.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Uma cor.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O arco-iris.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A imensidão...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Simplesmente feliz!!!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Iluminada.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sem medos.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sem pudores.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sem...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Zem...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Além...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ah...é como se todas as vezes eu ficasse unida com o melhor do mundo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Com Deus,porque eu me sinto como se fosse...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O vento.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A água.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O ar.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O mar.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O Sol.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A Lua.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O fogo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A terra.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SFK__Nk_2MI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/bQ2197O_OnE/s1600-h/unica.JPG"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211438811518589122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SFK__Nk_2MI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/bQ2197O_OnE/s400/unica.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A flor.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um jardim.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O canto dos pássaros.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O aroma das flores.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O cheiro de mato.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O gosto da vida.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A essência do ser...o Amor.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eu me sinto toda.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Em partes.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Completa.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Faltando um pedaço.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SFK_uZaFKcI/AAAAAAAAAQs/4ic_6qXi22o/s1600-h/pena.JPG"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211438522636249538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SFK_uZaFKcI/AAAAAAAAAQs/4ic_6qXi22o/s400/pena.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Uma palavra.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um verso.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Uma rima.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Uma prosa.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A poesia.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Leve.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pluma.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tua&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Crua..&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nua.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lua.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;J.®&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SFK-xVkaq0I/AAAAAAAAAQc/gRL7dSv6hVo/s1600-h/lua-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211437473633839938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SFK-xVkaq0I/AAAAAAAAAQc/gRL7dSv6hVo/s320/lua-2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#008000;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;se tu soubesses, o tanto de importancia tens em minha vida...entenderia o quão bem fazes a minha vida...por mais que sintas a coceirinha do ciúme de vez em quando...a grandeza de estar,nem que por poucos instantes,é grande demais...eu simplesmente me sinto cheia de vida ao teu lado...é esse teu jeito de fazer a vida acontecer,que te faz o diferencial emocional.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Avis Amor!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6285757960439179477-735740261710779898?l=suspirolunar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suspirolunar.blogspot.com/feeds/735740261710779898/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6285757960439179477&amp;postID=735740261710779898' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6285757960439179477/posts/default/735740261710779898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6285757960439179477/posts/default/735740261710779898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suspirolunar.blogspot.com/2008/06/as-respostas-com-o-amor.html' title='As respostas com o  Amor.'/><author><name>MeninaDe£ua</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15003089854940397337</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SEZmwwAYnuI/AAAAAAAAAO0/rt2lY61Oo8c/S220/1209050165.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SFLAogVbmkI/AAAAAAAAARE/8U1fJf1isXg/s72-c/livre.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285757960439179477.post-1968187876277583579</id><published>2008-06-03T18:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T18:42:21.309-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Amplidão...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SEXyagAYntI/AAAAAAAAAOs/gZLuQb3GWII/s1600-h/pss.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207835081205915346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SEXyagAYntI/AAAAAAAAAOs/gZLuQb3GWII/s200/pss.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um Amor puro! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Uma mão na outra. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;União! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dois seres. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um só coração! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quatro pés. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um mesmo caminho. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dois espíritos. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um mesmo desejo! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quatro olhos. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Uma visão. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vários batimentos. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um único compasso! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Uma mão unida a outra. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um amor infinito... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um Pai e um Filho!!! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;J.®&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Coração da £ua...às 8:47...03/06/2008&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SEXyFgAYnsI/AAAAAAAAAOk/cIymlf0UsIk/s1600-h/pes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207834720428662466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SEXyFgAYnsI/AAAAAAAAAOk/cIymlf0UsIk/s320/pes.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;Carinhosamente criado e dedicado ao meu "Incondiconal" e seu "Infinito".&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6285757960439179477-1968187876277583579?l=suspirolunar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suspirolunar.blogspot.com/feeds/1968187876277583579/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6285757960439179477&amp;postID=1968187876277583579' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6285757960439179477/posts/default/1968187876277583579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6285757960439179477/posts/default/1968187876277583579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suspirolunar.blogspot.com/2008/06/amplido.html' title='Amplidão...'/><author><name>MeninaDe£ua</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15003089854940397337</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SEZmwwAYnuI/AAAAAAAAAO0/rt2lY61Oo8c/S220/1209050165.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SEXyagAYntI/AAAAAAAAAOs/gZLuQb3GWII/s72-c/pss.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285757960439179477.post-5540760797389514571</id><published>2008-05-28T18:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T19:12:58.896-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Páginas a mais...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SD4MXAAYngI/AAAAAAAAANA/8vhVH5I8tBg/s1600-h/book.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205611808565009922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SD4MXAAYngI/AAAAAAAAANA/8vhVH5I8tBg/s400/book.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mais algumas páginas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ler um livro é viajar...é transpor barreiras e ou mundos jamais vistos,&lt;br /&gt;mas o bom mesmo, é quando se pode escrever as páginas (ou se imaginar escrevendo),&lt;br /&gt;através da vivência de cada uma delas.&lt;br /&gt;Muitas vezes,se imagina que o livro foi acabado;que se pôs um ponto final na história&lt;br /&gt;entre a "Lua e o seu Morador"e é então, que se percebe, e que se entende,que em algumas&lt;br /&gt;histórias jamais se pode usar um ponto final,o melhor mesmo é entender que para essas mesmas&lt;br /&gt;histórias,só se existem reticências...&lt;br /&gt;Elas são "grandes"demais,para que comportem um simples e silencioso "ponto final".&lt;br /&gt;É quando se entende,que muitas páginas virão e serão passadas e que o mais interessante nisso&lt;br /&gt;tudo,é que a história possa ser vivida toda e intensamente.&lt;br /&gt;Quanto mais o tempo passa,mais tem-se vontade de viver, um momento escrito com palavras coloridas de&lt;br /&gt;carinho,amizade,respeito e reciprocidade.&lt;br /&gt;Momentos de se dar e receber.&lt;br /&gt;De se transpor "pontes"do imaginário.&lt;br /&gt;De se desejar, ainda mais, o outro ser.&lt;br /&gt;De se sentir todas as vibrações, e ser feliz com o olho que brilha, quando encontra o ser amado.&lt;br /&gt;Momento em que as lágrimas escorrem e se confundem com com a felicidade do sorriso,diante do reencontro.&lt;br /&gt;ah...momentos que são para sempre e fazem o coração bater mais aceleradamente feliz.&lt;br /&gt;Nesse livro escrito a quatro mãos,não há um autor definido,é a sintonia estabelecida por ambos,que vai elaborar o&lt;br /&gt;projeto de cada página a ser escrita.&lt;br /&gt;Tem um fim esta história?&lt;br /&gt;Serão felizes para sempre as suas personagens?&lt;br /&gt;Ah!!...só o senhor de toda as razões poderá falar...e como o coração é um mestre inimitável,tem-se a certeza que&lt;br /&gt;os "finais felizes"só existem,para aqueles que pegam o pincel em suas mãos e tem coragem de, com&lt;br /&gt;a tinta do amor incondicional, escrever sempre uma linha a mais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SD4LHgAYnfI/AAAAAAAAAM4/_ImzAMmweQU/s1600-h/506385244_f54accb19f_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205610442765409778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SD4LHgAYnfI/AAAAAAAAAM4/_ImzAMmweQU/s400/506385244_f54accb19f_m.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;CoraçãoDa£ua...às 22:05...dia 28/05/08&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6285757960439179477-5540760797389514571?l=suspirolunar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suspirolunar.blogspot.com/feeds/5540760797389514571/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6285757960439179477&amp;postID=5540760797389514571' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6285757960439179477/posts/default/5540760797389514571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6285757960439179477/posts/default/5540760797389514571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suspirolunar.blogspot.com/2008/05/pginas-mais.html' title='Páginas a mais...'/><author><name>MeninaDe£ua</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15003089854940397337</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SEZmwwAYnuI/AAAAAAAAAO0/rt2lY61Oo8c/S220/1209050165.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SD4MXAAYngI/AAAAAAAAANA/8vhVH5I8tBg/s72-c/book.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285757960439179477.post-549486560714850210</id><published>2008-05-24T18:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-24T19:20:05.959-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Retalhos que fazem a Vida.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SDjH9gAYnYI/AAAAAAAAAL4/cCinNDMP7ps/s1600-h/casalfhoda.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204129228804103554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SDjH9gAYnYI/AAAAAAAAAL4/cCinNDMP7ps/s400/casalfhoda.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De momentos inesqueciveis é feita a vida.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dos Instantes que parecem pequenos...(mas que tornam a vida grande).&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De um abraço apertado.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um beijo na boca.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um olhar sincero e carinhoso.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Uma mão segurando outra.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um sorriso escancarado.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De palavras soltas e cheias de vida.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do papo furado com os amigos.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De comer pipoca e tomar refrigerante no escurinho do cinema.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De tomar sorvete de cupuaçu até a língua congelar.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De ficar olhando o céu como se fosse o último instante...e interminável.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De olhar a lua e pensar no Sol.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SDjH3gAYnXI/AAAAAAAAALw/KdpImn_gqQs/s1600-h/flore.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204129125724888434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SDjH3gAYnXI/AAAAAAAAALw/KdpImn_gqQs/s320/flore.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De sentir o cheiro de mato e das flores do seu jardim.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Da água do mar molhando seu corpo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De ver seu amor dormindo e bulinar com ele.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De simplesmente ficar paradinha...e saber que tudo isso &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;só é possível,porque Deus existe.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cada instante é único e eterno.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cabe a cada um de nós saber vivê-lo intensamente,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;buscando o aprimoramento individual,para quem sabe possamos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;juntar esses pequenos retalhos oferecidos pela vida,e formarmos &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a mais belas das colchas...o amor a si e ao próximo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jacy£ua...às 23.15...24/05/08&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SDjHoAAYnWI/AAAAAAAAALo/iMGY0CQQ78g/s1600-h/colcha.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204128859436916066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SDjHoAAYnWI/AAAAAAAAALo/iMGY0CQQ78g/s200/colcha.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;h4 class="fr"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Minha vida é uma colcha de retalhos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;h4 class="fr"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Todos da mesma cor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;span class="aut"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;a class="autor" href="http://www.pensador.info/autor/Mario_Quintana/"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mário Quintana&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6285757960439179477-549486560714850210?l=suspirolunar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suspirolunar.blogspot.com/feeds/549486560714850210/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6285757960439179477&amp;postID=549486560714850210' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6285757960439179477/posts/default/549486560714850210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6285757960439179477/posts/default/549486560714850210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suspirolunar.blogspot.com/2008/05/retalhos-que-fazem-vida.html' title='Retalhos que fazem a Vida.'/><author><name>MeninaDe£ua</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15003089854940397337</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SEZmwwAYnuI/AAAAAAAAAO0/rt2lY61Oo8c/S220/1209050165.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_E6kRfRwvlDU/SDjH9gAYnYI/AAAAAAAAAL4/cCinNDMP7ps/s72-c/casalfhoda.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
