<?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-6881555673532699504</id><updated>2012-01-05T14:09:11.906-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dryca poesia e vida</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>49</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-1616840219377274249</id><published>2010-04-30T13:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-30T13:44:28.043-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Crepusculo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/S9tBDivmt9I/AAAAAAAAAIo/_EyWd_6_ZeA/s1600/Crepusculo_800.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466034101866117074" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/S9tBDivmt9I/AAAAAAAAAIo/_EyWd_6_ZeA/s320/Crepusculo_800.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Crepusculo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ao experimentar a solidão das minhas escolhas e vivenciar o vazio da minha existencia...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Meu peito doi.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Minha essência se esvai pelos becos escuros e frios onde antes meu sangue corria quente e vivo...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Morro.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Minha alma em pedaços espera uma lágrima do amor que não vivi...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Porão escuro de saudade de um momento que não aconteceu.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dryca, 2010.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-1616840219377274249?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/1616840219377274249/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2010/04/crepusculo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/1616840219377274249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/1616840219377274249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2010/04/crepusculo.html' title='Crepusculo'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/S9tBDivmt9I/AAAAAAAAAIo/_EyWd_6_ZeA/s72-c/Crepusculo_800.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-1523798923579287236</id><published>2010-03-02T16:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T17:27:12.858-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Moreno</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/S4231E7qF8I/AAAAAAAAAIg/iGZxyHZDa0w/s1600-h/0000046198_20080130133643.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444209647045711810" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/S4231E7qF8I/AAAAAAAAAIg/iGZxyHZDa0w/s320/0000046198_20080130133643.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Moreno&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tua boca morena, macia e serena me leva a pensar...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Se num insulto á noite eu pudesse viajar...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;No relevo misterioso do teu corpo eu iria pousar...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;E no aconchego dos teus braços eu iria morar...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Viver entre os suspiros e os açoites de um desejo que mal posso controlar...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mas agora, nesse silêncio do lume eu só posso sonhar.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dryca,2010.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&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/6881555673532699504-1523798923579287236?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/1523798923579287236/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2010/03/moreno.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/1523798923579287236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/1523798923579287236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2010/03/moreno.html' title='Moreno'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/S4231E7qF8I/AAAAAAAAAIg/iGZxyHZDa0w/s72-c/0000046198_20080130133643.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-3227701824139022680</id><published>2010-02-24T12:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-24T12:56:11.137-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Absurdos Interessantes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/S4WSISFCXuI/AAAAAAAAAIY/D4_XxDR1RPY/s1600-h/esquinas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441916395736686306" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/S4WSISFCXuI/AAAAAAAAAIY/D4_XxDR1RPY/s320/esquinas.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Absurdos Interessantes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pensar na magia dos encontros me fascina&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Vidas combinadas ao virar uma esquina&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Palavras ditas, olhares trocados, tudo ensina&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;A vida nos surpreende e isso ninguém evita.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dryca, 2010.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-3227701824139022680?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/3227701824139022680/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2010/02/absurdos-interessantes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/3227701824139022680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/3227701824139022680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2010/02/absurdos-interessantes.html' title='Absurdos Interessantes'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/S4WSISFCXuI/AAAAAAAAAIY/D4_XxDR1RPY/s72-c/esquinas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-5927935706467179825</id><published>2010-01-09T16:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T16:32:33.667-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Amor infinito</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/S0kf9FxhMVI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/0t2YQqAsRQg/s1600-h/Amor+infinito.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 276px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424902360526827858" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/S0kf9FxhMVI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/0t2YQqAsRQg/s320/Amor+infinito.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Amor infinito.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quero cultivar-te como a mim mesmo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Semear relacionamento no solo do respeito&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Impregnado na luz da verdade&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Na umidade da compaixão&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quem sabe assim ascenderemos aos prazeres infinitos do amor concreto, frutífero, liberto dos limites do corpo, ampliado e livre no universo da alma.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dryca, 2010.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-5927935706467179825?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/5927935706467179825/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2010/01/amor-infinito.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/5927935706467179825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/5927935706467179825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2010/01/amor-infinito.html' title='Amor infinito'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/S0kf9FxhMVI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/0t2YQqAsRQg/s72-c/Amor+infinito.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-6707083483100628475</id><published>2010-01-05T17:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T17:56:13.233-08:00</updated><title type='text'>O sinônimo de mim é você.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/S0PtFkja8QI/AAAAAAAAAII/YUb_V3sWP84/s1600-h/dia-dos-namorados-9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 303px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423439056251580674" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/S0PtFkja8QI/AAAAAAAAAII/YUb_V3sWP84/s320/dia-dos-namorados-9.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;O sinônimo de mim é você.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;O sinônimo de mim é você&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Leva-me no sonho de infância&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Faz-me novamente ser criança&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;O sinônimo de mim é você&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Beija-me devagar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;E numa explosão de fogos mulher queres me tornar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;O sinônimo de mim é você&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cruza nossos corpos me ensina a amar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;E nessa nevoa de delírios não sei onde quero chegar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;O sinônimo de mim é você&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Que a vida insiste em separar.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dryca, 2010.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-6707083483100628475?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/6707083483100628475/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2010/01/o-sinonimo-de-mim-e-voce.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/6707083483100628475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/6707083483100628475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2010/01/o-sinonimo-de-mim-e-voce.html' title='O sinônimo de mim é você.'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/S0PtFkja8QI/AAAAAAAAAII/YUb_V3sWP84/s72-c/dia-dos-namorados-9.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-7605618493655329178</id><published>2009-12-23T13:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-23T14:20:09.197-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Travessia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SzKXgA_x2ZI/AAAAAAAAAIA/bY6iZvd1Flo/s1600-h/Arrumando_a_Mala.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418559877959244178" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SzKXgA_x2ZI/AAAAAAAAAIA/bY6iZvd1Flo/s320/Arrumando_a_Mala.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Travessia&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Na busca da felicidade&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Passei por diversos jardins&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Emergia em mim uma ansiedade&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Que hoje encorajada confesso&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quando menina sorria brincando&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Panela de barro e de repente um pranto&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;O vento da vida me fez chorar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lágrima sofrida no meu rosto começou a rolar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quando adolescente a rebeldia eu queria&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Buscava sonhos e inspirava ideologia&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;E me sentindo rejeitada&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Achava que Deus me esquecia&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ainda jovem o mundo eu quis conhecer&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Desbravar fronteiras&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Culturalmente crescer&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Viver aventuras e no amor florescer&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hoje mulher uma calma me invade&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Em gestos simples encontro a felicidade&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;No sopro de brisa&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nas aguas do mar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Na dança poética do sol&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;No encontro com o luar.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dryca, 2009.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-7605618493655329178?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/7605618493655329178/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/12/travessia.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/7605618493655329178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/7605618493655329178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/12/travessia.html' title='Travessia'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SzKXgA_x2ZI/AAAAAAAAAIA/bY6iZvd1Flo/s72-c/Arrumando_a_Mala.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-120460437059143282</id><published>2009-12-10T18:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T18:39:40.653-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Viagem ao meu encontro...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SyGwzVcgdTI/AAAAAAAAAH4/cmiCNWENNfY/s1600-h/alma+gemea.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 262px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413802623052576050" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SyGwzVcgdTI/AAAAAAAAAH4/cmiCNWENNfY/s320/alma+gemea.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Viagem ao meu encontro.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Um mar de felicidade me espera&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quando num sorriso repentino tu te esmeras&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Numa conquista plena de uma quimera&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Deixa florir um sonho de amor na primavera&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Traz consigo o desconhecido numa aquarela&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Medo eu sinto, não me castigo pois as cores são belas&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nessa viagem vou se reserva&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;O universo me abre uma nova era&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Encontro profundo em passo de espera&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Espelho de mim, alma que alegra&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Flor de lotus, flor bela&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Arranjo de vida, mosaico de estória que construindo meu ser uma beleza impar encerra.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dryca, 2009.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-120460437059143282?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/120460437059143282/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/12/viagem-ao-meu-encontro.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/120460437059143282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/120460437059143282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/12/viagem-ao-meu-encontro.html' title='Viagem ao meu encontro...'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SyGwzVcgdTI/AAAAAAAAAH4/cmiCNWENNfY/s72-c/alma+gemea.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-3997837482740170829</id><published>2009-12-08T05:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-08T05:24:59.869-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Verdade...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sx5ThcZeiZI/AAAAAAAAAHw/GQ2KYwtHPrw/s1600-h/1363606.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412855636169755026" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sx5ThcZeiZI/AAAAAAAAAHw/GQ2KYwtHPrw/s320/1363606.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Verdade&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O verdadeiro amor não é moral e sim ético&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O mesmo existe em liberdade&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Com maturidade suficiente para evitar os desgastes&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que reduzem a existência em possessividade...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Li em algum lugar.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dryca, 2009.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-3997837482740170829?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/3997837482740170829/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/12/verdade.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/3997837482740170829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/3997837482740170829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/12/verdade.html' title='Verdade...'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sx5ThcZeiZI/AAAAAAAAAHw/GQ2KYwtHPrw/s72-c/1363606.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-1522497743073780988</id><published>2009-11-09T15:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T16:04:16.317-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Desabafo...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Svit0MCtT3I/AAAAAAAAAHo/oIPstMACq20/s1600-h/SIM_EU~1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402258865128296306" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Svit0MCtT3I/AAAAAAAAAHo/oIPstMACq20/s320/SIM_EU~1.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hoje senti a necessidade de escrever aqui dois pensamentos que não são meus, mas que me traduzem agora:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Vai diminuindo a cidade, vai aumentando a simpatia, quanto menor a casinha, mais sincero o bom dia..."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"As miudezas esparramadas pelos cantos de minhas lembranças me conduzem ao altar de minhas predileções. A memória é o campo do amor preservado."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Todos esses sentimentos que me invadem agora, só me remete ao fato de que todo esse amor não só é preservado, mais de raizes profundas e valiosas. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Os amigos sinceros eu guardo como tesouro, já as pessoas oportunistas eu peço que se vá sem olhar pra traz...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dryca, 2009.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-1522497743073780988?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/1522497743073780988/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/11/desabafo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/1522497743073780988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/1522497743073780988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/11/desabafo.html' title='Desabafo...'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Svit0MCtT3I/AAAAAAAAAHo/oIPstMACq20/s72-c/SIM_EU~1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-6731148526340026401</id><published>2009-11-01T12:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T12:16:00.582-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Flores e  Dores</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Su3sa9IxHUI/AAAAAAAAAHg/8eviWvqxwVE/s1600-h/flores.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 254px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399231476119182658" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Su3sa9IxHUI/AAAAAAAAAHg/8eviWvqxwVE/s320/flores.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Flores e Dores&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;As flores são lindas e diversas&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;As dores são redentoras sem pressa&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;As flores são presentes de agora&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;As dores batem a porta a qualquer hora&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;As flores eu quero sempre no meu jardim&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;As dores deixo bem longe de mim&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;As flores trago aos que amo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;As dores eu evito sem engano&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;As flores colorem a minha vida&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;As dores eu sinto na tua partida.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dryca, 2009.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-6731148526340026401?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/6731148526340026401/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/11/flores-e-dores.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/6731148526340026401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/6731148526340026401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/11/flores-e-dores.html' title='Flores e  Dores'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Su3sa9IxHUI/AAAAAAAAAHg/8eviWvqxwVE/s72-c/flores.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-4739935989668505264</id><published>2009-10-24T13:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-24T13:21:20.914-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Encontro</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SuNhoQfDqtI/AAAAAAAAAHY/yDtZEF3KjFs/s1600-h/casal_dormindo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 319px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 259px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396264122767878866" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SuNhoQfDqtI/AAAAAAAAAHY/yDtZEF3KjFs/s320/casal_dormindo.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Encontro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os primeiros raios de sol rasgam o véu da noite&lt;br /&gt;Trazem consigo a lembrança da despedida&lt;br /&gt;No meu coração a emoção vem de açoite&lt;br /&gt;Do nosso leito não quero vê tua saída.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca, 2009.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-4739935989668505264?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/4739935989668505264/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/10/encontro.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/4739935989668505264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/4739935989668505264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/10/encontro.html' title='Encontro'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SuNhoQfDqtI/AAAAAAAAAHY/yDtZEF3KjFs/s72-c/casal_dormindo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-6064372799148924657</id><published>2009-10-17T17:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-17T17:19:05.007-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Você se foi</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Stpe2XaS_nI/AAAAAAAAAHI/rY58wbXzILE/s1600-h/sim1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 245px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393727791819849330" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Stpe2XaS_nI/AAAAAAAAAHI/rY58wbXzILE/s320/sim1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Você se foi...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje meu peito grita e sangra de tanto doer. Uma dor doída e dilacerante.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meus sonhos dissolvidos em lágrimas que rolam no meu rosto e tocam aqueles que estão a minha volta. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mais uma vez sinto um vazio no peito, sentimentos sagrados jogados na lama da vida, ignorados, momentos ímpares desprezados, recusados por uma junção antes tão querida...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Junção de dois seres que na minha lembrança ficará eterna, o encontro do eu e tu...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Até quando posso suportar tanta dor? Não sei onde vou chorar minhas lágrimas, quero gritar e não posso.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero morrer por dentro e não sei como. Quero romper com meus sonhos e simplesmente reconheço que ainda o amo... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onde encontrar a cura pra esse desespero.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onde posso achar o colo que almejo, onde posso encontrar sossego?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca, 2009&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-6064372799148924657?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/6064372799148924657/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/10/voce-se-foi.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/6064372799148924657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/6064372799148924657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/10/voce-se-foi.html' title='Você se foi'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Stpe2XaS_nI/AAAAAAAAAHI/rY58wbXzILE/s72-c/sim1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-6171932670604226395</id><published>2009-10-10T14:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T14:51:38.451-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pena de pássaro</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/StD_QWR5GjI/AAAAAAAAAHA/KEIR_6A5feI/s1600-h/pena.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 239px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391089410286098994" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/StD_QWR5GjI/AAAAAAAAAHA/KEIR_6A5feI/s320/pena.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pena de pássaro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sou a pena que caiu da asa de um pássaro e hoje voa na brisa de um vento forte, que sopra do norte ao sul do país, em direção oculta e destino incerto, não tenho pressa de chegar a lugar algum... Pois o único lugar que me interessa viver é no universo que habita em mim.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Insano sonho, coerente pesadelo, tu jogas fora tamanho amor por puro medo de se entregar as emoções da vida realmente vivida.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Arrepender-se revela o desejo inato de exclusão de algo ou alguém... Jamais pensei ouvir...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O tempo não volta, não posso fazê-lo voltar. Uma coisa eu sei não me arrependo do amor que sinto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca, 2009. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-6171932670604226395?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/6171932670604226395/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/10/pena-de-passaro.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/6171932670604226395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/6171932670604226395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/10/pena-de-passaro.html' title='Pena de pássaro'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/StD_QWR5GjI/AAAAAAAAAHA/KEIR_6A5feI/s72-c/pena.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-5059518855085667631</id><published>2009-10-02T19:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T19:12:33.134-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sabor e Paixão</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Ssay3h74XPI/AAAAAAAAAG4/OWR6Dvfrf-M/s1600-h/sabor+e+paix%C3%A3o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 298px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388190671267454194" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Ssay3h74XPI/AAAAAAAAAG4/OWR6Dvfrf-M/s320/sabor+e+paix%C3%A3o.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sabor e Paixão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teu ciúme me envaidece&lt;br /&gt;Paixão, olhares e logo me esquece&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beija minha boca de repente&lt;br /&gt;Noutro momento se arrepende&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trás carinho e atenção&lt;br /&gt;Diz que sou especial, depois diz não&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fico confusa com tanta contradição&lt;br /&gt;Mas não posso negar que és dono do meu coração&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Devo ser louca, nécia ou amo demais&lt;br /&gt;Só tenho certeza que te quero meu rapaz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parte, voa, faz a travessia&lt;br /&gt;Leva teus sonhos com toda energia&lt;br /&gt;Feliz serás um dia&lt;br /&gt;Sempre terás boa companhia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dentro de te sei que vou&lt;br /&gt;Sacralizado e eterno é esse amor&lt;br /&gt;Explicação? Não as quero&lt;br /&gt;Em silêncio a cura espero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-5059518855085667631?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/5059518855085667631/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/10/sabor-e-paixao.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/5059518855085667631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/5059518855085667631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/10/sabor-e-paixao.html' title='Sabor e Paixão'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Ssay3h74XPI/AAAAAAAAAG4/OWR6Dvfrf-M/s72-c/sabor+e+paix%C3%A3o.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-2872697366259662571</id><published>2009-09-30T06:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T06:29:48.936-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Maternidade</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SsNdI4Gb3UI/AAAAAAAAAGw/P2i1bdt9L1o/s1600-h/adocao1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 250px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387251986344959298" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SsNdI4Gb3UI/AAAAAAAAAGw/P2i1bdt9L1o/s320/adocao1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Maternidade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Menino que corre ao meu lado&lt;br /&gt;Na vida é meu tesouro sagrado&lt;br /&gt;Vieste a minha vida alegrar&lt;br /&gt;Quando no meu coração entraste para ficar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No colo te dei alegrias&lt;br /&gt;Nos meus braços foi inteira fantasia&lt;br /&gt;Teu sono eu velo com zelo&lt;br /&gt;Pois o meu amor não esconde segredo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vem meu menino levado&lt;br /&gt;Contigo exercito meu sonho abafado&lt;br /&gt;Na vida não sei quem sou&lt;br /&gt;Mas se me chamas eu logo vou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-2872697366259662571?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/2872697366259662571/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/09/maternidade.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/2872697366259662571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/2872697366259662571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/09/maternidade.html' title='Maternidade'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SsNdI4Gb3UI/AAAAAAAAAGw/P2i1bdt9L1o/s72-c/adocao1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-7332227280639313627</id><published>2009-09-27T08:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T08:27:22.642-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Loucura</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sr-EQxIhceI/AAAAAAAAAGo/WtD6cscAveA/s1600-h/louca.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 241px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386169102960259554" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sr-EQxIhceI/AAAAAAAAAGo/WtD6cscAveA/s320/louca.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Loucura&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Significado em mim&lt;br /&gt;Sem perceber brinca serelepe no meu jardim&lt;br /&gt;Foges quando chego perto&lt;br /&gt;Rompe fronteiras no meu coração aberto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não penso quando contigo estou&lt;br /&gt;Nos teus olhos viajo sem saber quem sou&lt;br /&gt;Teu perfume embriaga os meus sentidos&lt;br /&gt;Louca me chamam, mas não dou ouvidos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amar eu sei e a ti quero ensinar&lt;br /&gt;Se tu quiseres a felicidade podemos encontrar&lt;br /&gt;Não será perfeita essa relação&lt;br /&gt;Será verdadeira e cheia de emoção&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-7332227280639313627?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/7332227280639313627/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/09/loucura.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/7332227280639313627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/7332227280639313627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/09/loucura.html' title='Loucura'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sr-EQxIhceI/AAAAAAAAAGo/WtD6cscAveA/s72-c/louca.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-2975796416555989146</id><published>2009-09-19T14:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-19T14:55:51.099-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Novo amor</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SrVSpiuvW9I/AAAAAAAAAGg/VhU0tQPnb6Y/s1600-h/amor+e+sedu%C3%A7%C3%A3o"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 294px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383299803242257362" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SrVSpiuvW9I/AAAAAAAAAGg/VhU0tQPnb6Y/s320/amor+e+sedu%C3%A7%C3%A3o" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Novo Amor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje tocaste meu corpo com leveza&lt;br /&gt;Chegaste num manso olhar de sedução&lt;br /&gt;Desenhaste na minha pele com clareza&lt;br /&gt;O brilho audacioso de uma paixão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brincaste de príncipe ao meu lado&lt;br /&gt;Fostes homem seguro a me possuir&lt;br /&gt;Corpos unidos e acalorados&lt;br /&gt;Sem pressa nenhuma pra se despedir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perfume que fica nos meus lençóis&lt;br /&gt;Sono que nos invade sem pedir&lt;br /&gt;Peço que o sol não rasgue essa noite&lt;br /&gt;Para que nos teus braços eu possa dormir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca 2009.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-2975796416555989146?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/2975796416555989146/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/09/novo-amor.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/2975796416555989146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/2975796416555989146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/09/novo-amor.html' title='Novo amor'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SrVSpiuvW9I/AAAAAAAAAGg/VhU0tQPnb6Y/s72-c/amor+e+sedu%C3%A7%C3%A3o' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-4895118073161550846</id><published>2009-08-29T16:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T16:26:01.247-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Liberdade de viver...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Spm403feTtI/AAAAAAAAAGY/H53qeNBajUc/s1600-h/liberdade.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375530848632065746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Spm403feTtI/AAAAAAAAAGY/H53qeNBajUc/s320/liberdade.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Liberdade de viver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A liberdade só pode ser proporcionada por um amor capaz de construir e de respeitar as diferenças. Num mundo tão cheio de diversidades, repleto de valores destorcidos, fica difícil a convivência entre as pessoas que não tem como princípio de vida o respeito pelo próximo. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onde termina meu espaço e onde começa o seu? Por diversas vezes na vida me fiz essa pergunta e em todos os momentos desse questionamento não encontrei resposta fora do ensinamento máximo de Jesus. Ame. Um verbo forte. Absoluto, que não requer complemento.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo diante de tamanha lição de vida, ainda cai sobre mim e sobre diversas pessoas a mesma dúvida. Onde começa e termina o meu espaço? Aonde vai o limite do outro? São tantas perguntas que ficam sem respostas. E que bom que permanecem assim, pois uma receita de bolo pra vida seria extremamente chato, entediante. Tudo acontece assim por que o resultado deve ser assim. Acho que haveria mais tristeza no mundo. As surpresas que ocorrem no caminhar de nossa estrada é que fazem a diferença. Causam alegrias, tristezas, espanto, crenças, encanto... E assim que o ciclo da vida se alimenta e se renova.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Em determinados momentos em que a vida nos coloca diante desses questionamentos. Quem esta com a razão? Será que ultrapassei o limite do outro? É nessas horas que uma frase de um amigo me vem à mente “a boa palavra se alimenta de silêncios e pausas”, nesses momentos procuro refletir diante desse ensinamento. Busco o silêncio. Companheiro sábio de todas as horas. A pressa que há no mundo de hoje nos tira a reflexão. Mais o silêncio das horas que vivo na solidão do meu quarto é precioso de mais para que minha vida aconteça se harmonize e eu possa ser livre e deixe o outro livre também. Amar só se aprende amando e querendo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca, 2009&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-4895118073161550846?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/4895118073161550846/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/08/liberdade-de-viver.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/4895118073161550846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/4895118073161550846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/08/liberdade-de-viver.html' title='Liberdade de viver...'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Spm403feTtI/AAAAAAAAAGY/H53qeNBajUc/s72-c/liberdade.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-4866613083170090162</id><published>2009-08-22T17:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T17:47:22.579-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tu</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SpCRgTys35I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/BovwwiHbBio/s1600-h/tu.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372954339707772818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 217px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SpCRgTys35I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/BovwwiHbBio/s320/tu.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tu me fizeste chorar&lt;br /&gt;Solver as horas dos dias a te procurar&lt;br /&gt;Emanar dos meus sonhos uma esperança&lt;br /&gt;De viver algumas horas do dia como criança&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tu me fizeste sorrir&lt;br /&gt;Falando coisas engraçadas a me divertir&lt;br /&gt;Provocaste em mim um desejo&lt;br /&gt;Ser mulher satisfeita no teu beijo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foste herói foste vilão&lt;br /&gt;Foste palhaço espaçoso no meu coração&lt;br /&gt;Roubaste de mim um sentimento sagrado&lt;br /&gt;Deixaste um vazio que hoje vive ao meu lado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-4866613083170090162?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/4866613083170090162/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/08/tu.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/4866613083170090162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/4866613083170090162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/08/tu.html' title='Tu'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SpCRgTys35I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/BovwwiHbBio/s72-c/tu.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-2601181152022753204</id><published>2009-08-13T15:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T15:46:58.121-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Balsamo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SoSXt4G0lBI/AAAAAAAAAGI/9X82LEQypic/s1600-h/jesus-cristo-1_630_1152x864.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369583470143378450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SoSXt4G0lBI/AAAAAAAAAGI/9X82LEQypic/s320/jesus-cristo-1_630_1152x864.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Balsamo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tens o dom de me devolver à calma&lt;br /&gt;Recolhe os meus sofrimentos&lt;br /&gt;Refaz a minha alma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sopra no meu destino&lt;br /&gt;Essência divina&lt;br /&gt;Muda a direção num amor contínuo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deste a vida por mim&lt;br /&gt;E não me pedes nada&lt;br /&gt;Amor pleno assim&lt;br /&gt;Só no teu peito é morada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-2601181152022753204?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/2601181152022753204/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/08/balsamo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/2601181152022753204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/2601181152022753204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/08/balsamo.html' title='Balsamo'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SoSXt4G0lBI/AAAAAAAAAGI/9X82LEQypic/s72-c/jesus-cristo-1_630_1152x864.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-6442469208179527327</id><published>2009-08-07T14:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T14:28:30.331-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sou</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnycUvP5_9I/AAAAAAAAAGA/pVXHesNlXKY/s1600-h/sou.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367336736013287378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 212px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnycUvP5_9I/AAAAAAAAAGA/pVXHesNlXKY/s320/sou.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sou uma louca a procura de cura&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sou caixa de magia pura&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sou Barco a deriva num mar revolto&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sou peça de um quebra-cabeça solto&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sou rio que não corre para o mar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sou noite escura sem luar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sou vento sem direção&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sou livro sem explicação&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sou cristal líquido que escorre entre os dedos&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sou pesadelo na noite de puro medo.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dryca, 2009&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-6442469208179527327?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/6442469208179527327/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/08/sou.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/6442469208179527327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/6442469208179527327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/08/sou.html' title='Sou'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnycUvP5_9I/AAAAAAAAAGA/pVXHesNlXKY/s72-c/sou.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-2837505513420009460</id><published>2009-08-02T07:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T07:25:50.718-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sofro</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnWh1b8Rv7I/AAAAAAAAAF4/QISrNh0eTTM/s1600-h/SOFRO_E_CHORO.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365372470487531442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 313px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnWh1b8Rv7I/AAAAAAAAAF4/QISrNh0eTTM/s320/SOFRO_E_CHORO.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sofro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje eu queria você sem a presença do tempo&lt;br /&gt;Os teus olhos limitados na visão do meu corpo&lt;br /&gt;Uma esperança nasceria em flor&lt;br /&gt;Num jardim que eu chamaria de amor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O ciúme te levou de mim&lt;br /&gt;A insegurança poluiu nosso jardim&lt;br /&gt;Não podias ter fugido a luta&lt;br /&gt;De encontrar o amor que tinhas sonhado nessa tua vida oculta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando olhas nos meus olhos sei o que vem de ti&lt;br /&gt;Amor ardente faminto de me possuir&lt;br /&gt;Se pudesses me sentir agora&lt;br /&gt;Saberias que o mesmo sinto aqui&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tens ficado no teu canto calado&lt;br /&gt;O mesmo sentimento eu tenho abafado&lt;br /&gt;Não sei ate onde vou agüentar&lt;br /&gt;Sem o teu colo eu não sei ficar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca, 2009.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-2837505513420009460?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/2837505513420009460/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/08/sofro.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/2837505513420009460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/2837505513420009460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/08/sofro.html' title='Sofro'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnWh1b8Rv7I/AAAAAAAAAF4/QISrNh0eTTM/s72-c/SOFRO_E_CHORO.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-4609308249687782016</id><published>2009-08-02T07:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T14:50:32.158-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jardim da fantasia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnWhCn1it8I/AAAAAAAAAFw/Aa_c0gma88k/s1600-h/9833jardim.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365371597507180482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnWhCn1it8I/AAAAAAAAAFw/Aa_c0gma88k/s320/9833jardim.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Jardim da Fantasia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amor criativo partes que se completam&lt;br /&gt;Uma flor que nasce e desabrocha&lt;br /&gt;E de beleza meu jardim fica repleto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Relações saudáveis acalmam e enriquecem&lt;br /&gt;Necessidade de encontro tem aquele que carece&lt;br /&gt;Um beija flor que chega ama e envaidece&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sentimentos multiplicam no meu coração pulsante&lt;br /&gt;Universo verdadeiro num processo contagiante&lt;br /&gt;Um jardim cresce no meu sonho viajante&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sou louca e não tenho cura&lt;br /&gt;Quero vida, magia e doçura&lt;br /&gt;Um jardim de fantasia pura.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca, 2009&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-4609308249687782016?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/4609308249687782016/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/08/jardim-da-fantasia.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/4609308249687782016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/4609308249687782016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/08/jardim-da-fantasia.html' title='Jardim da fantasia'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnWhCn1it8I/AAAAAAAAAFw/Aa_c0gma88k/s72-c/9833jardim.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-5197477905872995337</id><published>2009-08-02T05:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T05:42:42.109-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pai</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnWJrJRHMmI/AAAAAAAAAFo/A4UsfL-t6sE/s1600-h/pai-9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365345905396888162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnWJrJRHMmI/AAAAAAAAAFo/A4UsfL-t6sE/s320/pai-9.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;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pai&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Homem que trouxe amor numa espera&lt;br /&gt;Num impulso de demoras fez florir uma primavera&lt;br /&gt;Foi menino e hoje se esmera&lt;br /&gt;Num amor continuo que me revela&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abri o portão principal do meu coração&lt;br /&gt;Fiz dele cofre, um guardião&lt;br /&gt;Não tens idéia de tamanha emoção&lt;br /&gt;Quando me ensinaste minha maior lição&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando criança brincava com teus cabelos&lt;br /&gt;Emoção de fazer de ti meu brinquedo&lt;br /&gt;Pai que virou filho&lt;br /&gt;E que hoje cuido com maior zelo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não sei quanto tempo nos resta&lt;br /&gt;Para ser pai e para ser filha&lt;br /&gt;Dinâmica da vida inquieta&lt;br /&gt;De amor e de uma conquista me acerta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorri contigo nos melhores momentos&lt;br /&gt;Nas tuas fraquezas me fizeste guerreira&lt;br /&gt;No meu colo chora teus sofrimentos&lt;br /&gt;Pra ti sou sombra acolhedora, vem e deita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-5197477905872995337?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/5197477905872995337/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/08/pai.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/5197477905872995337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/5197477905872995337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/08/pai.html' title='Pai'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnWJrJRHMmI/AAAAAAAAAFo/A4UsfL-t6sE/s72-c/pai-9.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-5770719292463511723</id><published>2009-08-01T08:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T08:47:17.888-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ditador</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnRjazAkAoI/AAAAAAAAAFg/Un907BIAfVE/s1600-h/cadeira_ditador.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365022368125420162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 298px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnRjazAkAoI/AAAAAAAAAFg/Un907BIAfVE/s320/cadeira_ditador.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ditador&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tu me roubaste à calma&lt;br /&gt;Desorientou minha vida&lt;br /&gt;Fez sofrer minha alma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Criou em mim um pesadelo&lt;br /&gt;Destruiu meus sonhos&lt;br /&gt;E hoje vivo o desespero&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Choro lágrimas apressadas&lt;br /&gt;Choro vida despedaçada&lt;br /&gt;Vontade própria dominada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sei que posso fazer a travessia&lt;br /&gt;Pontes não me faltam&lt;br /&gt;Hoje me sinto sozinha&lt;br /&gt;Quero ficar aqui só calada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-5770719292463511723?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/5770719292463511723/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/08/ditador.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/5770719292463511723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/5770719292463511723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/08/ditador.html' title='Ditador'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnRjazAkAoI/AAAAAAAAAFg/Un907BIAfVE/s72-c/cadeira_ditador.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-5668628911422251964</id><published>2009-07-31T08:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-31T08:44:21.179-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beijo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMRNokD0kI/AAAAAAAAAFY/NDT9O4HG94A/s1600-h/beijo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364650507053027906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 245px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMRNokD0kI/AAAAAAAAAFY/NDT9O4HG94A/s320/beijo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Beijo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beijo que me roubou a calma&lt;br /&gt;Trouxe frio e me levou a alma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beijo pode dizer amor&lt;br /&gt;Mas também pode causar dor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beijo pode querer matar&lt;br /&gt;E agora fez meu coração sangrar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje não sei se o beijo quero guardar&lt;br /&gt;Mas dos teus lábios vou sempre lembrar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-5668628911422251964?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/5668628911422251964/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/07/beijo.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/5668628911422251964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/5668628911422251964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/07/beijo.html' title='Beijo'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMRNokD0kI/AAAAAAAAAFY/NDT9O4HG94A/s72-c/beijo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-9145062583405126124</id><published>2009-07-11T12:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-11T12:50:17.773-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Coringa</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SljszAGGtaI/AAAAAAAAAEw/EWg4zDC0Eac/s1600-h/coringa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357292117700294050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 249px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SljszAGGtaI/AAAAAAAAAEw/EWg4zDC0Eac/s320/coringa.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hoje nesse dia eleito especial por ser seu aniversário, pensei em diversas coisas que gostaria de te falar. Gostaria de ser original, dizer-lhe algo que ainda não foi dito, ou quem sabe ainda não escrito. Nossa que ousadia minha! Tentar superar os artesões das palavras, os arquitetos da literatura, os fingidores das emoções, nossos amados poetas... Não. Não poderia fazê-lo. Existem ocasiões na vida em que o discurso inteligente é verdadeiramente inútil, não poderia abrilhantar ou substituir um gesto poético.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Então deitei os olhos em cenas comuns do nosso cotidiano, coloquei o filtro da arte nos nossos pequenos momentos e pude perceber que mais que um espaço de vida, existia ali um encontro.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Segundo Martin Buber, toda verdadeira vida é encontro. A metafísica da amizade, o encontro do eu e o tu, é o nascimento do nós. Lembro da leveza que impera, o diálogo, fruto amadurecido de nossa intensa convivência, às vezes metáforas, às vezes músicas, às vezes vinhos, às vezes poesia, às vezes silêncio. Gestos marcantes que extrapolam o tempo e o espaço de nossos corpos e que fecundam meu pensamento agora.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que há de mais precioso nesta vida costuma ser vivido e experimentado a partir do silêncio frutuoso, aquele momento onde só cabe olhar os teus olhos e apreciar o perfume de tua alma. Olhar em silêncio os teus olhos e vê o profundo que há em ti, é amar o bom e o belo, assim como queria Aristóteles.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje no banquete da vida, ao estar com os que amo, de alguma forma eu os trago para dentro de mim. A alegria de tê-lo em minha vida é visceral, é algo que me pertence, que nasce nas minhas entranhas e enche meu peito de júbilo, me torna melhor e capaz de apreciar a vida com uma disposição infinita de realizar sonhos. O invólucro espiritual que nos sutura nos socorre do esquecimento. Temos esse poder. O poder de dar significado às pessoas que elegemos sagradas em nossas vidas. Tu és significado e significante em mim. Não são só palavras, ou escritos, são retratos de momentos felizes, de sorrisos largos, frases sutis, de verdades cruas, pois não são perfeitos, por isso são momentos e sentimentos reais. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tens o poder de me devolver pra mim, situações cotidianas onde sem perceber tens a minha posse. O que posso te dizer hoje, não consigo traduzir em palavras, eu só sei sentir... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feliz aniversário. Beijos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-9145062583405126124?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/9145062583405126124/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/07/coringa.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/9145062583405126124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/9145062583405126124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/07/coringa.html' title='Coringa'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SljszAGGtaI/AAAAAAAAAEw/EWg4zDC0Eac/s72-c/coringa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-4040795962193402948</id><published>2009-07-04T08:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T08:31:12.416-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A força do amor</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sk91VkMQIwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/mUcjydwk70E/s1600-h/dar+amor.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354627495319577346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 244px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sk91VkMQIwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/mUcjydwk70E/s320/dar+amor.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;A força do amor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quem pensa que a felicidade está em receber o amor de alguém se engana. Amar traz muito mais benefícios do que ser amado. Amar ensina a multiplicar gestos e emoções, amigos e momentos felizes. Na hora em que amamos, somos tomados por uma energia poderosa, que nos enche de entusiasmo, de alegria, de criatividade, de generosidade. Amar é doação. Amar faz de nós pessoas melhores, nos torna capazes de apreciar a vida, habilidade que não perdemos nem se formos abandonados.&lt;br /&gt;O discurso que diz: “Ninguém me ama, ninguém me quer, ninguém me chama de meu amor” Também quer dizer: ”Ah como eu queria ser amado”. Algumas pessoas não conseguem assumir essa fragilidade, necessidade de cuidado e de cuidar também.&lt;br /&gt;Se tu acreditas que a felicidade está no ato de receber do que no gesto de dar amor engano seu amigo, pois as delicias de amar superam as de ser amado. Ser foco do amor de alguém é muito bom, mas tem mais a ver com uma posição passiva, uma satisfação vaidosa, uma felicidade que vem de outro e dele depende. Dessa forma só poderemos ser felizes na presença do outro.&lt;br /&gt;A alegria de ser amado não é plena, não é visceral. Já o amar é algo que nos pertence, que nasce em nossas entranhas e nos enche o peito de um jubilo transbordante, que ativa nossas moléculas em direção ao ser amado, que provoca uma alegria que nasce e mora em nós mesmos, que nos torna melhores, mais capazes de apreciar a vida, mais generosos, com disposição infinita para viver e realizar.&lt;br /&gt;Ser amado é um empréstimo; amar é um capital. Quando o amor pelo outro nasce de nós ele transborda para o mundo. Contagia os que estão à volta e a leveza impera no espaço que habitamos. Quando sou amado, meu viço depende do outro. Quando amo, ele depende de mim mesmo. Amar nos torna mais fortes, plenos e criativos, leves, harmônicos em gestos e palavras. Às vezes nos tornamos ate poetas.&lt;br /&gt;Quando somos correspondidos, o amor que já existe em nós se torna ainda mais pujante. Sentimento avassalador. Mas lembre-se que não vale à pena amar quem não nos ama, mas também não é suficiente amar só porque somos amados. E preciso que o amor parta de nós. Assim, a capacidade de sermos alegres, vivermos criativamente, sentirmo-nos felizes se mantém latente. Ainda que hiberne por um período, ainda que não exista alguém especial nesse momento, mais cedo ou mais tarde esse sentimento acordará, e toda essa energia fluirá ao teu redor. Todo mundo quer ser amado, mas o prazer de amar é muito maior.&lt;br /&gt;Nos versos de Nahman Armony, temos essa dimensão divina.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Eu amo&lt;br /&gt;E ao amar posso amar mais ainda&lt;br /&gt;Posso estender meu amor em comprimento e profundidade&lt;br /&gt;Sem deixar de amar a quem amo”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que posso dizer mais diante da plenitude da beleza expressa em tão lindos versos...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca, 2009.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&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/6881555673532699504-4040795962193402948?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/4040795962193402948/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/07/forca-do-amor.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/4040795962193402948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/4040795962193402948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/07/forca-do-amor.html' title='A força do amor'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sk91VkMQIwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/mUcjydwk70E/s72-c/dar+amor.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-5180620490073463324</id><published>2009-06-15T11:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T11:59:47.735-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nós</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SjaZ6D5ekAI/AAAAAAAAAEY/DE0WT_VJZpY/s1600-h/amantes.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347630830306889730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 232px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SjaZ6D5ekAI/AAAAAAAAAEY/DE0WT_VJZpY/s320/amantes.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nós...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu queria te ver&lt;br /&gt;Hoje eu queria te ter&lt;br /&gt;À noite eu queria teus braços&lt;br /&gt;Em volta do meu corpo só o teu abraço&lt;br /&gt;Eu queria teu olhar&lt;br /&gt;A procurar por mim sem se cansar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu queria poder dizer que te amo&lt;br /&gt;Gritar ao vento sem quebrar o encanto&lt;br /&gt;Eu queria ao teu lado dormir&lt;br /&gt;E nessa noite simplesmente poder te sentir&lt;br /&gt;Quem sabe assim então eu poderia parir&lt;br /&gt;Os filhos que fecundarias em mim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca, 2009&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-5180620490073463324?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/5180620490073463324/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/06/nos.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/5180620490073463324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/5180620490073463324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/06/nos.html' title='Nós'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SjaZ6D5ekAI/AAAAAAAAAEY/DE0WT_VJZpY/s72-c/amantes.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-1955928735147151253</id><published>2009-06-06T05:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-06T05:37:26.364-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Não sei...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sipinf-S92I/AAAAAAAAADg/dbGBS0kaI1A/s1600-h/Autumn+Leaves.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344192338565724002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sipinf-S92I/AAAAAAAAADg/dbGBS0kaI1A/s320/Autumn+Leaves.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;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não sei....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quando me faltam palavras...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quando não sei o que dizer...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quando preciso falar e o som da minha voz não alcança você...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quando tento fugir...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quando a estrada faz curvas...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Porque escrever aquilo que já foi expresso pelos mais lindos versos que um poeta, artesão das palavras, arquiteto de nosso sentimentos, nâo poderia descrever meus sentimentos de melhor forma. Seria inapto de minha parte, não seria justo e nem sincero comigo e com você. Por isso uso os versos de Chico Cesar.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Isso que não ouso dizer o nome&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; Isso que dói quando você some&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; Isso que brilha quando você chega&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; Isso que não sossega, que me desprega de mim"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dryca, 2009.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-1955928735147151253?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/1955928735147151253/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/06/nao-sei.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/1955928735147151253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/1955928735147151253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/06/nao-sei.html' title='Não sei...'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sipinf-S92I/AAAAAAAAADg/dbGBS0kaI1A/s72-c/Autumn+Leaves.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-2026562716954831288</id><published>2009-05-26T14:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T14:52:53.842-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tempo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/ShxklWvQb6I/AAAAAAAAADY/-dosYNcGsqo/s1600-h/Dock.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340253851076292514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/ShxklWvQb6I/AAAAAAAAADY/-dosYNcGsqo/s320/Dock.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;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tempo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outro dia, em um livro que estava lendo, encontrei a seguinte afirmação: “o primeiro sintoma de que estamos matando nossos sonhos é a falta de tempo”. Pensei muito sobre essa frase, e um incomodo familiar tomou conta de mim. Preciso escrever a respeito, disse a mim mesma. É assim, sempre que algo me atinge de maneira peculiar, seja uma palavra, uma frase, um gesto, um olhar, ate mesmo o silêncio daqueles que me são sagrados. Não falo do silêncio acolhedor, do afago, do colo, do estar junto de mãos dadas. Não. Falo do frio e gélido silêncio de ignorar o outro, do não olhar, do não sentir, da verdadeira intenção de magoar, mesmo que inconsciente, se é que pode ser assim. Não sei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talvez seja hoje o dia de falar sobre esse assunto, esse tema que ecoa nos meus ouvidos, no meu pensamento, atinge e respinga nos meus gestos com todos que estão a minha volta. O silêncio incomoda, é triste, é necessário no dia de hoje para que eu possa ser clara, transparente comigo mesma, escrever sobre ele. O tempo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tempo e suas formas de cura, de solução. Quando algo nos acontece, de forma inesperada, mal conduzida, mal explicada, ficamos paralisados, postos numa armadura gessada que não nos deixa mover em direção aos acontecimentos, ou ate mesmo letárgico diante dos fatos que se sucedem. Pobre mal entendido, tudo provocado por um ciúme, uma ausência de palavras valiosas, por uma omissão de gestos ou de olhares fraternos. Talvez! O tempo, velho conselheiro, amigo das horas, das noites choradas na solidão do quarto, dos dias longos a espera do teu retorno, das projeções necessárias ao dia, necessidade de visualizar teu sorriso aberto, gostoso, quando somente então vejo uma estrada que nos separa. Travessia que não acontece. O silêncio que dói. Doido ao ponto de romper sorrisos que invalida noites calorosas regada a vinho, tardes de musica que complementam nossas alegrias infantis. Tudo tão lindo e necessário, vital aos nossos dias. Perdidos um mar de silencio que nos separa, segrega duas almas ao esgotamento do isolamento. Quem pode então ser amigo nessas horas se não o tempo? Aquele que vem na marcação exata traz consigo o alimento necessário, sábio, que diz: Calma! Não se pode pensar ou decidir algo tão importante diante de tanta impulsividade. Sem o tempo o que seriamos? Onde os sábios poderiam duvidar de seus pensamentos, em que momento? Só o tempo pode nos dar essa dádiva. Tempo traz sabedoria, dizem aqueles que reconhecem essa qualificação na história.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que posso te dizer agora então? Que amo, só amando posso dizer que te perdôo pelo silencio, pelo teu não olhar, pelas tuas palavras, porque amando tuas qualidades e defeitos, podemos juntos construir algo real, longe da fantasia do “felizes para sempre”, pois te quero assim, como és. E sei, é recíproco. Então vem e me perdoa também, pois a felicidade nos aguarda no fogo das lenhas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca, 2009.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-2026562716954831288?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/2026562716954831288/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/05/tempo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/2026562716954831288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/2026562716954831288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/05/tempo.html' title='Tempo'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/ShxklWvQb6I/AAAAAAAAADY/-dosYNcGsqo/s72-c/Dock.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-2124389543885490015</id><published>2009-05-16T08:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T12:53:07.406-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Suspiro apaixonado</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sg8Zf8P0drI/AAAAAAAAADQ/yDy4xIUa8GE/s1600-h/namorados.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336512119996446386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sg8Zf8P0drI/AAAAAAAAADQ/yDy4xIUa8GE/s320/namorados.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Suspiro apaixonado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje ao olhar os teus olhos&lt;br /&gt;Sinto um desejo incontrolável&lt;br /&gt;Penso coisas proibidas&lt;br /&gt;Penso em corpos entrelaçados&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sinto um arrepio na pele quente&lt;br /&gt;Quero um beijo roubado&lt;br /&gt;Tenho você na minha frente&lt;br /&gt;Tenho suspiro velado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meu coração vadio&lt;br /&gt;Bate descompassado&lt;br /&gt;Ao sentir os teus lábios macios&lt;br /&gt;Entrego-me nesse solo sagrado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ousa invadir minha alma&lt;br /&gt;Desfaz meu destino traçado&lt;br /&gt;Amor que não pede calma&lt;br /&gt;Dormir só se for ao teu lado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca ( 2009 )&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-2124389543885490015?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/2124389543885490015/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/05/suspiro-apaixonado.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/2124389543885490015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/2124389543885490015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/05/suspiro-apaixonado.html' title='Suspiro apaixonado'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sg8Zf8P0drI/AAAAAAAAADQ/yDy4xIUa8GE/s72-c/namorados.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-3240905023528732129</id><published>2009-04-30T15:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T15:49:51.502-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Meu encontro com Deus</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SfomMUGDK0I/AAAAAAAAADI/VmXQ2oAjktA/s1600-h/luz.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330615101940771650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 210px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SfomMUGDK0I/AAAAAAAAADI/VmXQ2oAjktA/s320/luz.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Meu encontro com Deus &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não lembro bem o dia, só que eu era bem pequena naquela época. Estava na casa da Tia Terezinha, minha tia avó, como era de costume passar meus finais de semana, ansiosa pelo domingo, onde íamos juntas a igreja. Eu adorava a escola dominical. Usava meu vestido bordado, sapatinho de verniz e meias de crochê, minha Tia me cuidava como a uma boneca. Acho que por ela só ter tido filhos homens, eu e ela tínhamos um laço, uma sutura na alma, um entrelace de corações, que só quem ama assim, pode mensurar o envolvimento existente entre duas pessoas que mais parecem uma só.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brincava na cozinha com minhas panelinhas de barro, quando ouvi a voz de minha avó dizer: A ira de Deus será implacável com ele! Sua voz era grave e trazia uma raiva e fúria contida que me deu medo. Pensei: Nossa! Deus estar com raiva, o que a pessoa fez? Fiquei pensando nos castigos possíveis e a cada minuto ficava mais assustada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A noite, quando Tia Terezinha me colocava na rede para dormir, perguntei-lhe: Tia, quem vai experimentar a ira de Deus? O que ele fez? Porque Deus é mal? Eu to com medo! Minha Tia sorriu e me abraçou dizendo: Deus não é mal, ele é pai e nos ama. Quem ama cuida e trata com carinho. Quando alguém faz alguma coisa que o deixa contrariado, ele chama e aconselha. Algumas pessoas acham que ele é um velho rabugento, mais ele é um homem simples, de voz doce e que gosta de tomar chá. Quem gosta de um bom chá não pode ser rabugento, dizia ela. Eu sorri, achando engraçado. Deus tomando chá! Foi ai que ela me ensinou, que a noite eu sempre recebia a visita de um amigo, eu poderia não vê, mais poderia sentir e falar com ele. Seu nome era Jesus. E a ele eu poderia falar tudo, qualquer assunto, sorrir, chorar, pedir conselho, pois ele era meu melhor amigo. Nesse momento aprendi a rezar, era só conversar com meu Jesus Amigo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minha Tia me ensinou a amar, amar as plantas, os bordados, as brincadeiras, os amigos. Ela me ensinou que a vida era leve, se a gente levasse a vida com bom humor e um grande sorriso no rosto e na alma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nunca vi minha Tia chorar, triste, com raiva, pelo contrário tudo era motivo para uma boa risada. Ate quando a comida queimava na panela e eu ficava com medo, pois sabia que seu marido era um homem violento, chegava em casa bêbado e a maltratava. Lembro de uma vez que ele chegou violento em casa, ela me pegou pela mão e saímos correndo. Corríamos tanto que ate meu chinelo perdi. Subimos na árvore no quintal e lá ficamos durante toda a tarde, ate meu tio dormir. Passamos a tarde toda chupando siriguela, e ela me fazia sorrir dizendo que eu parecia um passarinho assanhado beliscando as frutas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Muito cedo a vida levou minha grande amiga de mim. Tia Terezinha morreu ainda jovem, tinha 40 anos e eu apenas 7. Ela estava muito doente, hoje eu sei disso, mais na época as crianças não ficavam sabendo dessas coisas. Câncer. Lembro que nos seus últimos dias de vida, ela gostava de ouvir um hino, “Cem ovelhas”, repetia uma, duas, três, muitas vezes. Eu adoro essa musica por causa dela. Alias ela também me ensinou a gostar de música. Tia Terezinha era a evangélica mais serelepe que eu já conheci na vida, adorava dançar, contar piadas, tudo escondido de minha avó, que sempre muito séria brigava com ela. Ela só não me ensinou que as pessoas morrem. E quando ela se foi, eu experimentei uma dor atroz. Uma solidão imensa. Minha vida perdeu a cor. Seu corpo sem vida era algo que não combinava com o nosso encontro semanal. Nosso amor compartilhado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passei a busca-la nos lugares onde costumávamos estar juntas, mas só sentia solidão. Foi ai que num impulso de raiva contida, briguei com Deus. No quintal da casa de minha Tia, quebrei minhas panelinhas de barro, chutei as árvores e gritava com Deus: Seu velho bobo! Cruel! Egoísta! Levou minha tia de mim! Só porque não sabe fazer doce, levou a melhor doceira do mundo pra fazer doce pra você! Espero que você fique bem gordo e não consiga se levantar da cadeira pra fazer seu chá!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depois de alguns dias, senti saudade de ouvir falar de um Deus bom, amoroso, como ela me falava. Fui a igreja com minha avó e lá falavam do Apocalipse. No calor da pregação o Pastor perguntou se eu queria vê minha tia novamente, eu teria que a aceitar Jesus e entrar no barco do Senhor no dia do Juízo final, e só aqueles que eram da igreja estariam salvos. Lembrei de meus pais, eles eram católicos e eu queria que eles entrassem no barco, mais o Pastor disse que não só os crentes seriam salvos. Então eu disse: Muito obrigado Pastor, mais se meus pais não podem entrar, eu também não vou e se eles vão para o inferno eu vou com eles, pois eu os amo e é com eles que eu vou ficar, seja onde for! Sai da igreja batendo o pé e fiquei sentada na calçada ate o culto terminar e poder voltar para casa. Minha orelha quase caiu de tanto que minha avó puxou dizendo que eu havia matado ela de vergonha e que não me traria mais para a igreja. Era tudo que eu queria ouvi naquela hora.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não tenho nada contra os evangélicos, pelo contrário, tenho vários amigos e familiares evangélicos. Aquele pastor é que foi infeliz em seu discurso, naquele momento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Só me restava conversar com meu Jesus amigo. Já na adolescência fazia parte do grupo de jovens da igreja católica, mais sempre tive problemas por tratar as pessoas como iguais. Meu irmão era homossexual, era pois ele já faleceu, e eu era discriminada por ter amigos gays. O Padre no auge de sua ignorância disse que eu não podia servir a dois senhores, se eu quisesse servir a Deus eu teria que me afastar dos pescadores. Como eu poderia me afastar do meu irmão? Não! Eu o amava e ele pra mim era mais cristão que aquele pobre padre. Deixei o grupo pois era tratada diferente. Cheguei a ouvir: Metade da família é evangélica, outra é católica e na casa ainda tem um gay. Nessa casa Deus não pode habitar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deixei de procurar Deus nos lugares onde a maioria das pessoas vão. Hoje eu o encontro no meu dia a dia. Quando viajo 5 horas de estrada na sexta-feira para passar o final de semana em casa, só pra vê o sorriso do Lucas e ele correr &lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;para &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;os &lt;/span&gt;meus braços dizendo: Titi! Eu olho nos olhos de Deus e sorriu e digo: Obrigado por ter me trazido em segurança pra receber esse abraço!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu o encontro quando tenho que partir no domingo a tarde e deixo minha mãe triste, preocupada pois são mais 5 horas de viagem ate chegar no meu local de trabalho. Eu olho nos seus olhos e digo: Cuida dela pra mim, Senhor?! Ele acena que sim e eu parto um pouco mais tranquila pra outra semana de trabalho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sei que ele me espera em algum lugar para tomar um chá. Temos muito que nos falar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Invejo as pessoas que o encontram nas igrejas, nos ritos, na Eucaristia. Minha comunhão, ela se dá na rua, com as crianças, na clínica, em casa, quando divido meu lanche com aquele que tem fome, quando vou ao lixão, convencer os pais que lugar de criança é na escola, quando vou a escola tentar acabar com o preconceito com aquele que é especial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talvez eu ainda seja aquela menina que um dia quebrou as panelinhas de barro, e que não soube como pedir colo a Deus. Só sei que ele me olha de perto e nos seus olhos encontro seu amor e carinho. Sou frágil, sou assim. Quando vou a sua porta, bater para poder entrar, o maroto deixa a porta aberta e eu fico sem jeito. Entro devagar e comprovo que o ditado é verdade, Deus criou o homem a sua imagem e semelhança. Tudo organizadinho, não é que ele é metódico igual a mim. Ai eu olho lá pra fora e ele ta cuidando do mendigo na calçada. Sempre tem um pobre na calçada de toda igreja e quase ninguém vê. Deus sempre ta do lado dele.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um dia eu quero entrar, sentar e tomar aquele chá. Um dia ainda vou voltar a provar a hóstia. Hoje eu não sei fazer isso. Não tenho vergonha de dizer, essa sou eu, sem medo ou culpa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca (2009).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-3240905023528732129?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/3240905023528732129/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/04/meu-encontro-com-deus.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/3240905023528732129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/3240905023528732129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/04/meu-encontro-com-deus.html' title='Meu encontro com Deus'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SfomMUGDK0I/AAAAAAAAADI/VmXQ2oAjktA/s72-c/luz.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-8369410211962342901</id><published>2009-04-19T05:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T05:11:05.736-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Amor</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SesUvxDX1NI/AAAAAAAAADA/S_5qvoKoXJw/s1600-h/eu+dentro+de+mim.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326373795149632722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 211px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SesUvxDX1NI/AAAAAAAAADA/S_5qvoKoXJw/s320/eu+dentro+de+mim.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;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Amor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amor que me faz crescer&lt;br /&gt;Que me faz ser melhor&lt;br /&gt;Que me faz procurar por mim&lt;br /&gt;Amor que me faz ser livre para te encontrar...&lt;br /&gt;Eu dentro de mim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca/2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-8369410211962342901?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/8369410211962342901/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/04/amor.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/8369410211962342901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/8369410211962342901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/04/amor.html' title='Amor'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SesUvxDX1NI/AAAAAAAAADA/S_5qvoKoXJw/s72-c/eu+dentro+de+mim.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-1085685697757632017</id><published>2009-04-18T17:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T17:06:34.145-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Talvez</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sepq8u9tsnI/AAAAAAAAAC4/sY82icOzy28/s1600-h/casal.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326187100950606450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 222px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sepq8u9tsnI/AAAAAAAAAC4/sY82icOzy28/s320/casal.bmp" 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;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Talvez&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talvez se um dia eu pudesse&lt;br /&gt;Mergulhar no profundo verde dos teus olhos&lt;br /&gt;Me encontrar nessa imensidão de mistérios que eles escondem&lt;br /&gt;Poderia então quem sabe dizer&lt;br /&gt;Amor, enfim te encontrei!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talvez se um dia me fosse concedido a graça&lt;br /&gt;Um momento ordinário de minha vida&lt;br /&gt;Ao virar uma esquina&lt;br /&gt;Um encontro fortuito&lt;br /&gt;Sentir as pernas bambas&lt;br /&gt;A espinha gelar&lt;br /&gt;Os lábios tremer e o ar faltar&lt;br /&gt;E quase que imediato sentir&lt;br /&gt;Meu rosto ruborizar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tua voz doce e grave soar&lt;br /&gt;Teu toque firme e sutil me invadir&lt;br /&gt;Poderia então quem sabe dizer&lt;br /&gt;Amor, vem toma posse de mim!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca, 2009.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-1085685697757632017?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/1085685697757632017/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/04/talvez.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/1085685697757632017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/1085685697757632017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/04/talvez.html' title='Talvez'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sepq8u9tsnI/AAAAAAAAAC4/sY82icOzy28/s72-c/casal.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-4627467268827752440</id><published>2009-04-18T03:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T03:57:07.360-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Poetas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Semx3l49xqI/AAAAAAAAACw/0feCWisJxxY/s1600-h/largo+do+poeta.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325983602964285090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Semx3l49xqI/AAAAAAAAACw/0feCWisJxxY/s320/largo+do+poeta.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Poetas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poetas, humanos sensíveis de olhares profundos&lt;br /&gt;Desnudam o mundo num encanto fascinante&lt;br /&gt;Descrevem a vida e transformam em arte&lt;br /&gt;Aquilo que o olhar cego do cotidiano&lt;br /&gt;Insiste em deixar no escuro&lt;br /&gt;No imundo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poetas que escrevem forte&lt;br /&gt;Transformam a vida em versos mágicos&lt;br /&gt;Que encantam e embelezam a estrada&lt;br /&gt;Onde minha imaginação e coração viajam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Numa busca perfeita e simples&lt;br /&gt;Trago a tona um coração que grita&lt;br /&gt;Viva a poesia!&lt;br /&gt;Vivo a tua poesia no silêncio dos meus dias&lt;br /&gt;Onde busco a mim mesma com tamanha euforia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca, 2009.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-4627467268827752440?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/4627467268827752440/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/04/poetas.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/4627467268827752440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/4627467268827752440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/04/poetas.html' title='Poetas'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Semx3l49xqI/AAAAAAAAACw/0feCWisJxxY/s72-c/largo+do+poeta.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-2539638821370657527</id><published>2009-04-10T05:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T05:53:24.080-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Desejo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sd9BJyu6G_I/AAAAAAAAACo/5wsQ-ZvA-SA/s1600-h/desejo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323044921068362738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 238px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sd9BJyu6G_I/AAAAAAAAACo/5wsQ-ZvA-SA/s320/desejo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Desejo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É impulso de demoras&lt;br /&gt;É feito de vagarezas&lt;br /&gt;É processo natural&lt;br /&gt;Significados e belezas&lt;br /&gt;Enfim&lt;br /&gt;Realidades longas&lt;br /&gt;Definitivas surpresas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca/2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-2539638821370657527?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/2539638821370657527/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/04/desejo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/2539638821370657527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/2539638821370657527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/04/desejo.html' title='Desejo'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sd9BJyu6G_I/AAAAAAAAACo/5wsQ-ZvA-SA/s72-c/desejo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-4055872924975607228</id><published>2009-04-10T05:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T05:39:01.837-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Luz</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sd89yna8lvI/AAAAAAAAACg/3Bn9AnyMVPs/s1600-h/jesus.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323041224359974642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 164px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sd89yna8lvI/AAAAAAAAACg/3Bn9AnyMVPs/s320/jesus.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Luz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mistério que eu quero preservar&lt;br /&gt;Um universo a desvendar&lt;br /&gt;O desejo de permanecer&lt;br /&gt;Pelo bem que me fazes sentir&lt;br /&gt;A felicidade que eu busco conquistar&lt;br /&gt;Embora o tempo passe&lt;br /&gt;No meu coração, significado estás&lt;br /&gt;Acalma minha alma&lt;br /&gt;Alimento que precisa tempo para saciar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca/2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-4055872924975607228?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/4055872924975607228/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/04/luz.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/4055872924975607228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/4055872924975607228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/04/luz.html' title='Luz'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sd89yna8lvI/AAAAAAAAACg/3Bn9AnyMVPs/s72-c/jesus.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-3730430129470989847</id><published>2009-04-09T09:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T09:31:26.469-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quem sou eu...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sd4ir-X_BHI/AAAAAAAAACY/uFfksoea9bY/s1600-h/quem+sou+eu.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322729948471821426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sd4ir-X_BHI/AAAAAAAAACY/uFfksoea9bY/s320/quem+sou+eu.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quem sou eu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sou uma sociedade em conflito e é nesse conflito que me repenso,me reescrevo, me arrumo e me perco&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Uma explosão de sentimentos, movimento, numa vertente inconsciente de uma consciência de momentos, reflexo de vida, vivida e em andamento&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sou corpo e mente, uma capacidade de entendimento,&lt;br /&gt;com infinidades de ações nesse momento&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pois com os meus olhos percebo o perfume da alma&lt;br /&gt;daqueles que amo e com as minhas mãos eu vejo tornar-se claro,&lt;br /&gt;conhecer emoções e pensamentos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca (set, 2007)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&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/6881555673532699504-3730430129470989847?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/3730430129470989847/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/04/quem-sou-eu.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/3730430129470989847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/3730430129470989847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/04/quem-sou-eu.html' title='Quem sou eu...'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sd4ir-X_BHI/AAAAAAAAACY/uFfksoea9bY/s72-c/quem+sou+eu.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-5269099043209941448</id><published>2009-04-09T06:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T06:19:35.498-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quando doi</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sd311KlCSSI/AAAAAAAAACI/9EvPFSXISew/s1600-h/quando+doi.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322680628343359778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 273px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 260px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sd311KlCSSI/AAAAAAAAACI/9EvPFSXISew/s320/quando+doi.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quando dói&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje a vida me dói&lt;br /&gt;Coração rasga, sangra, parece sufocar&lt;br /&gt;Flecha que vêem e corrói&lt;br /&gt;As lagrimas são quentes, insistem em cair&lt;br /&gt;Travesseiro confidente, tu conheces a mim&lt;br /&gt;Grito sufocado&lt;br /&gt;Dor que machuca e não se vai&lt;br /&gt;Me deixa!&lt;br /&gt;Vai embora!&lt;br /&gt;Quero voltar a sorrir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca (2009)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-5269099043209941448?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/5269099043209941448/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/04/quando-doi.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/5269099043209941448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/5269099043209941448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/04/quando-doi.html' title='Quando doi'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sd311KlCSSI/AAAAAAAAACI/9EvPFSXISew/s72-c/quando+doi.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-1042727158295309875</id><published>2009-04-09T06:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T06:16:20.836-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Amar...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sd31Fz1agcI/AAAAAAAAACA/S_UTPmvjlIA/s1600-h/amor.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322679814784188866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 316px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sd31Fz1agcI/AAAAAAAAACA/S_UTPmvjlIA/s320/amor.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Amar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero amar de fato&lt;br /&gt;Defeitos e qualidades&lt;br /&gt;Superação de limites&lt;br /&gt;Crescer de verdade&lt;br /&gt;Quero cultivar a realidade&lt;br /&gt;Sorrir e chorar&lt;br /&gt;Viver a dinâmica do desejo&lt;br /&gt;E todos os dias ao acordar&lt;br /&gt;Nos teus olhos encontrar&lt;br /&gt;O convite para viver eternamente ao teu lado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca/2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-1042727158295309875?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/1042727158295309875/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/04/amar.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/1042727158295309875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/1042727158295309875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/04/amar.html' title='Amar...'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sd31Fz1agcI/AAAAAAAAACA/S_UTPmvjlIA/s72-c/amor.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-3084291140222415658</id><published>2009-04-09T06:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T06:10:41.954-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Namorando comigo...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sd3zv8oJTPI/AAAAAAAAAB4/eg0_J5upVaU/s1600-h/namorando+comigo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322678339675704562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 225px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sd3zv8oJTPI/AAAAAAAAAB4/eg0_J5upVaU/s320/namorando+comigo.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;&lt;/div&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;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Namorando comigo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Segundo o dicionário, namorar é procurar inspirar amor a; cortejar; apaixonar, atrair, cativar; desejar ardentemente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bem, eu estou namorando! Estou procurando inspirar amor, cortejando, completamente apaixonada, atraída e desejando ardentemente a mim mesma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não, eu não estou brincando! E nem estou enlouquecida num surto psiquiátrico!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há algum tempo estou numa viagem particular, numa busca incessante de autoconhecimento. Virtudes e limites. Um aprendizado completo e aperfeiçoamento contínuo. Calma! Eu falei que estou em uma viagem. É tudo um processo, apenas comecei minha caminhada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Segundo a poetisa, “A infância é chão sobre o qual caminharemos o resto de nossos dias”. E é nas lembranças do passado que podemos nos conhecer e compreender melhor nos dias de hoje. Realmente as nossas vivências iniciais marcam profundamente e serão à base de nossas vivências futuras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somos complexos, nos os humanos intrigantes, vulneráveis e passíveis de enganos e erros. Somos também maravilhosas máquinas de afetos e ideias, de sonhos, de criação da arte, que transporta para além do trivial, transforma o cotidiano na moradia do divino. Capazes de instaurar na mais simples rotina a segurança e o aconchego necessário à felicidade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amar é uma tarefa complexa, mas também encantadora. Uma boa faxina nos armários do coração traz grande alivio. Às vezes é necessário, nos livrarmos de malas pesadas com sentimentos inúteis, que carregamos ao longo da vida. Para amar mais e melhor. Amor verdadeiro, que faz crescer. Amar com bom humor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O bom humor é uma qualidade atraente e uma atitude sábia. Não! Não significa piadas. Falo do sorriso afectuoso, o silêncio carinhoso, o colo acolhedor aberto ao outro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Essa caminhada tem me dado momentos inenarráveis, principalmente porque tenho ao meu lado o guia perfeito. Meu Jesus amigo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E você, já pensou em namorar essa pessoa que você vê todos os dias no espelho?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca(2009)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-3084291140222415658?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/3084291140222415658/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/04/namorando-comigo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/3084291140222415658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/3084291140222415658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/04/namorando-comigo.html' title='Namorando comigo...'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sd3zv8oJTPI/AAAAAAAAAB4/eg0_J5upVaU/s72-c/namorando+comigo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-4863837889382947798</id><published>2009-04-04T07:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T16:53:24.051-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Você</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sd3yZYxkKII/AAAAAAAAABw/Y7o0H_Ig07g/s1600-h/BXK32456_encontro-de-rios800.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322676852582787202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sd3yZYxkKII/AAAAAAAAABw/Y7o0H_Ig07g/s320/BXK32456_encontro-de-rios800.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SddsUZMt_BI/AAAAAAAAABo/NeMMSMswRTY/s1600-h/rios.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Você...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando digo que preciso de você, você sorri, debocha e sai. Mas o que eu quero dizer é muito mais profundo do eu mesma possa entender.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ninguém muda ninguém, ninguém muda sozinho, nós mudamos nos encontros. Simples, mas profundo. Eu preciso de você.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É nos relacionamentos que nos transformamos. Somos mudados, transformados a partir dos encontros, desde que estejamos abertos e livres para sermos absorvidos e devolvidos pela idéia e sentimento do outro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você já parou para observar as pedras que encontramos nas nascentes dos rios? E aquelas que estão em sua foz ou nos lugares mais profundos das águas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nós somos como as pedras. As que estão na nascentes são toscas, pontiagudas, cheias de falhas. A medida que elas vão sendo carregadas pelas águas dos rios, vão sendo transformadas, a ação das águas, das outras pedras, da areia, vão polindo, lapidado, desbastando essas pedras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Assim agem nossos contatos humanos. Sem eles, a vida seria monótona, árida, solo infértil. O mais importante nessa altura da vida, é constatar que não existem sentimentos bons ou ruins, sem a existência do outro, sem o seu contato. Viver sem me permitir um relacionamento próximo, profundo com o outro, é não crescer, não evoluir, não se transformar. É começar e terminar, nascer e morrer de forma tosca, pontiaguda, amorfa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje nesse dia eleito por mim, especial para reflexão, olho para o meu passado e reconheço em mim as marcas de pessoas que foram importantes no meu processo histórico. Contatos que fizeram de mim o que sou, transformando-me em alguém melhor, mais suave, mais leve, mais harmônica.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nem tudo foi somente rosas, houveram espinhos também, trago as marcas deles, que precisam ser polidas. É necessário...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trago no meu rosto os anos de experiência. Que não foram tantos assim. Mas segundo a poetisa "os poetas nascem velhos" acho que ela tem razão no que diz.&lt;br /&gt;Ainda sou uma grande pedra, cheia de excessos, cheia de arestas. Outro dia ouvi um escritor que gosto muito dizer, "os homens de grande valor na vida, percebem que durante sua existência vão perdendo todos seus excessos e se aproximando cada vez mais de sua essência". Sendo polida vou ficando cada vez menor, menor... Quem sabe um dia serei inteiramente grande.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando finalmente, um dia quem sabe a humanidade puder aceitar que somos pequenos, ínfimos, diante da importância dos encontros, da grandeza e misericórdia de Deus, quem sabe assim poderemos dizer que somos seres humanos valorosos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A beleza de um diamante bruto só é reconhecida após seu processo de lapidação. Somos constituídos essencialmente de amor. Ganhamos de Deus a capacidade de amar. Como amar é algo que teremos que aprender ao longo da vida. Ai estar o livre arbítrio. Deus nos fez livres. E ao nos livrarmos de nossos excessos, encontramos a nossa essência, nosso âmago, então poderemos brilhar, livres pela eternidade de nossa existência.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Durante muito tempo alimentei a idéia de que amar era ignorar os sentimentos ruins. Sofria ao sentir e provocar sentimentos ruins, Hoje sei que tudo faz parte da construção do amor. Somos contraditórios e os contrários se afirmam. É preciso se envolver, sem medo dos conflitos, pois é com eles que crescemos. Amamos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não acredito em outra maneira de descobrir o amor e sem ele a vida perde o sentido, não tem significado. Por isso digo: Preciso de você!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca, 2009.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&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/6881555673532699504-4863837889382947798?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/4863837889382947798/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/04/voce.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/4863837889382947798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/4863837889382947798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/04/voce.html' title='Você'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/Sd3yZYxkKII/AAAAAAAAABw/Y7o0H_Ig07g/s72-c/BXK32456_encontro-de-rios800.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-6582204676893272340</id><published>2009-03-22T03:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T16:58:02.773-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aprendizado</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/ScYbNh070fI/AAAAAAAAABg/XOzSeHUQR_w/s1600-h/aprendizado1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315966329390092786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/ScYbNh070fI/AAAAAAAAABg/XOzSeHUQR_w/s320/aprendizado1.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;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Aprendizado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A vida é um aprendizado. E tudo que nela existe, pode ser uma fonte riquíssima de um ensinamento profundo e transformador.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A vida não tece apenas uma teia de sofrimentos, dores, desabores e perdas, mas nos proporciona uma sucessão de ganhos. É desumano pensar que, ao permitir à dor em nossas vidas, Deus não esteja nos ensinando e preparando para caminharmos melhores diante do mundo. O equilíbrio da balança depende muito do que soubermos e quisermos enxergar nos momentos de oscilações da vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por mais devorador que seja, o mesmo sofrimento que derruba, faz voltar a crescer. É assim que o ciclo da vida se renova.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amadurecer auxilia na tarefa de ver melhor a realidade, e não é uma catástrofe. Ler ajuda. Já dizia o poeta, “Ler é fazer amor com as palavras”. Eu ouso em complementar, “ ler e escrever é fazer amor com as palavras, fecundar as mentes e parir cultura”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ainda que a gente nem perceba, tudo é avanço e transformação, acúmulo de experiência, dores do parto de nós mesmo, cada dia refeito. Somos melhores do que imaginamos ser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amadurecer deveria ser requintar-se na busca da simplicidade. Não seria maravilhoso isso? Simplesmente ser, sem máscaras, eu espelho de mim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca/2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-6582204676893272340?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/6582204676893272340/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/03/aprendizado.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/6582204676893272340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/6582204676893272340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/03/aprendizado.html' title='Aprendizado'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/ScYbNh070fI/AAAAAAAAABg/XOzSeHUQR_w/s72-c/aprendizado1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-5897607028389942437</id><published>2009-03-20T13:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T14:02:49.465-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Olhar</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/ScQDbQSKN6I/AAAAAAAAABY/i2RXfM842HA/s1600-h/caminho.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315377226966513570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/ScQDbQSKN6I/AAAAAAAAABY/i2RXfM842HA/s320/caminho.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Olhar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Eu quero olhar devagar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ter calma para vê o mundo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Vê o profundo nos que amo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Olhar em silêncio os teus olhos&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Perceber o perfume de tua alma&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Conquistar a fragrância de tua poesia&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Crescer nos gestos&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Multiplicar alegrias&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quero ser vista sem pressa&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Despertar o desejo de tua companhia.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dryca (2008) &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-5897607028389942437?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/5897607028389942437/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/03/olhar_20.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/5897607028389942437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/5897607028389942437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/03/olhar_20.html' title='Olhar'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/ScQDbQSKN6I/AAAAAAAAABY/i2RXfM842HA/s72-c/caminho.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-3350904749963763429</id><published>2009-03-20T03:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T16:59:13.621-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Amigo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/ScN3XSgkyAI/AAAAAAAAAAk/-BpCfwA4hYs/s1600-h/amigos.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315223227216480258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/ScN3XSgkyAI/AAAAAAAAAAk/-BpCfwA4hYs/s320/amigos.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hoje, nesse dia leito por mim, um dia especial. Quero aqui registrar uma homenagem a todas as pessoas que habitam em meu coração, pessoas que sorriram comigo, enxugaram minhas lágrimas, que puxaram minha orelha na hora certa, que me abraçaram com ternura, que afagaram meus cabelos, pessoas que mesmo de longe sem mesmo conhecer os meus olhos ao vivo e a cores, falam ao meu coração com o poder de cura. Posso dizer-lhes obrigado meus queridos amigos, amo muito todos vocês.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Amigo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Espelho meu&lt;br /&gt;Algo divino&lt;br /&gt;Presente que a vida me deu&lt;br /&gt;Nesse inconsciente destino&lt;br /&gt;Na vida ou na morte&lt;br /&gt;Tens um carinho constante&lt;br /&gt;Tu és meu amuleto da sorte&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo que distante&lt;br /&gt;Aponta meus erros, me corrige&lt;br /&gt;Me compreende de verdade&lt;br /&gt;Tesouro valioso&lt;br /&gt;Que no meu coração reside&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca (2009)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-3350904749963763429?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/3350904749963763429/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/03/amigo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/3350904749963763429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/3350904749963763429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/03/amigo.html' title='Amigo'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/ScN3XSgkyAI/AAAAAAAAAAk/-BpCfwA4hYs/s72-c/amigos.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-8549919515424439687</id><published>2009-03-14T04:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T04:22:28.779-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Liberdade</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SbuTUY0P7hI/AAAAAAAAAAc/0rzzHNHeO6g/s1600-h/montanha+neve.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313002163881897490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 216px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SbuTUY0P7hI/AAAAAAAAAAc/0rzzHNHeO6g/s320/montanha+neve.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Liberdade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Liberdade, jóia rara e necessária&lt;br /&gt;Pedra que habita em mim&lt;br /&gt;E precisa ser lapidada&lt;br /&gt;Fonte de vida&lt;br /&gt;Viagem marcada&lt;br /&gt;Ponte que trazes a mim&lt;br /&gt;Uma travessia desejada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca/2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&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/6881555673532699504-8549919515424439687?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/8549919515424439687/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/03/liberdade.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/8549919515424439687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/8549919515424439687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/03/liberdade.html' title='Liberdade'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SbuTUY0P7hI/AAAAAAAAAAc/0rzzHNHeO6g/s72-c/montanha+neve.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-6053464377951023425</id><published>2009-03-13T13:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T16:56:36.858-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Filho</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SbrD1-4tEPI/AAAAAAAAAAM/axMjBc95N6E/s1600-h/lucas+-+16+de+nov+073.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312774042618237170" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SbrD1-4tEPI/AAAAAAAAAAM/axMjBc95N6E/s320/lucas+-+16+de+nov+073.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Filho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teu sorriso me ilumina&lt;br /&gt;Traz luz a minha vida&lt;br /&gt;Um amor que me fascina&lt;br /&gt;Cresce no coração mais não sei onde termina&lt;br /&gt;Não é pra terminar...&lt;br /&gt;Filho que não foi gerado em mim&lt;br /&gt;E que nem de filho posso chamar&lt;br /&gt;Quando vi teus primeiros passos...&lt;br /&gt;Que orgulho senti&lt;br /&gt;Vontade de te abraçar&lt;br /&gt;Não me vejo sem você&lt;br /&gt;Sem você não posso ficar&lt;br /&gt;É amor o que sinto&lt;br /&gt;Amor de mãe&lt;br /&gt;Se é que posso classificar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dryca/2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-6053464377951023425?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/6053464377951023425/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/03/filho.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/6053464377951023425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/6053464377951023425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/03/filho.html' title='Filho'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SbrD1-4tEPI/AAAAAAAAAAM/axMjBc95N6E/s72-c/lucas+-+16+de+nov+073.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6881555673532699504.post-6722550258891903664</id><published>2009-03-08T05:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T17:00:49.458-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Saudade</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Saudade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ao sentir saudades, reaprendemos mil maneiras de voltar a amar.&lt;br /&gt;Só quem sabe o valor do reencontro, retorno ao útero amado, pode mensurar o valor do amor eterno.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Segundo o poeta, saudade de mãe é a maior de todas elas. Colo de mãe é solo sagrado, é lá que vemos a vida de forma segura. É no colo de mãe que refazemos nossas energias para viver a vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saudade, palavra que não tem tradução, resultado explicito de nossa miscigenação. Tenho sentido tantas saudades nesses últimos dias...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dos vinhedos que faziam parte da paisagem da rota dos vinhos verdes...&lt;br /&gt;Do inverno de 2002, o aconchego no meu edredom...&lt;br /&gt;Do vestido de cetim da minha boneca Suzi...&lt;br /&gt;Do sabor da goiabada caseira feita pela Tia Terezinha no fogão de lenha...&lt;br /&gt;Das minhas panelinhas de barro que cozinhávamos comida de verdade...&lt;br /&gt;Do sabor da Malukinha no recreio da escola...&lt;br /&gt;Dos mimos da Tia Luzía...&lt;br /&gt;Das férias de verão na praia do Icaraí...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As vezes essas saudades me remete a tempos queridos, chego a sentir cheiros e sabores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saudades as vezes vêem de coisas que não vivi. Não sei explicar. Melancolia? Talvez. A vida corre num ritmo acelerado. No compasso do coração correm as minhas lembranças. Num piscar de olhos... Nossa! O tempo passou, voou! Tempo é eterno. Acho que vivi a eternidade. Deus estava comigo. Ele sempre estar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saudade&lt;br /&gt;Palavra sem tradução&lt;br /&gt;Significados mil&lt;br /&gt;Arte que mora no coração&lt;br /&gt;Quem não sabe...&lt;br /&gt;Nunca sentiu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dryca/2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6881555673532699504-6722550258891903664?l=drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/feeds/6722550258891903664/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/03/saudade.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/6722550258891903664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6881555673532699504/posts/default/6722550258891903664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drycapoesiaevida.blogspot.com/2009/03/saudade.html' title='Saudade'/><author><name>Dryca poesias e textos</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08572833870143664184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YmbS9tNbhis/SnMJpTTnMBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/AwOfM53Rwig/S220/misturadas+085.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
