<?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-7256391589055743586</id><updated>2012-02-16T17:14:51.807-08:00</updated><title type='text'>El Rincón de Lorena</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7256391589055743586/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05741921234636827883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_2y6wHTDgzpQ/R_5I3qz-M7I/AAAAAAAAACw/NBFXK9Fv3Ew/S220/Lore+en+Manufactura.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7256391589055743586.post-2056675658236225797</id><published>2008-11-18T01:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T01:30:05.015-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Palabras</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;Gracias, Lore, por rescatar esos versos lanzados al azar en algún momento de mi periplo por este inmenso océano del ciberespacio. Como prometí, los he retomado para hacer algo un poquito más extenso, y te lo dedico especialmente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269926680399330290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 297px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wAfuh9MjEEE/SSKKZQGOO_I/AAAAAAAABiI/M4XeECU3o8o/s400/palabras2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hay palabras que desgarran sentimientos&lt;br /&gt;y silencios que evocan la agonía&lt;br /&gt;que disipan con su aliento la alegría&lt;br /&gt;y nublan con su hedor entendimientos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y hay palabras que visten a las flores&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;fonemas que silban con el viento&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;que rinden su alma, y al momento,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;encienden sus mejillas con rubores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y hay fonemas que nunca alzan el vuelo&lt;br /&gt;no cabe en las palabras nuestro sueño&lt;br /&gt;que vive sin cadenas y sin dueño&lt;br /&gt;entre el azul de mares y del cielo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Con todo mi cariño.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Narci&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7256391589055743586-2056675658236225797?l=losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com/feeds/2056675658236225797/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7256391589055743586&amp;postID=2056675658236225797' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7256391589055743586/posts/default/2056675658236225797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7256391589055743586/posts/default/2056675658236225797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com/2008/11/palabras.html' title='Palabras'/><author><name>Literatura-Poesia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wAfuh9MjEEE/SSKKZQGOO_I/AAAAAAAABiI/M4XeECU3o8o/s72-c/palabras2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7256391589055743586.post-7205265850585512647</id><published>2008-09-15T03:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T03:49:39.821-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Y hay palabras que visten a las flores&lt;br /&gt;fonemas que silban con el viento&lt;br /&gt;que rinden su alma, y al momento&lt;br /&gt;encienden sus mejillas con rubores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lena&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7256391589055743586-7205265850585512647?l=losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com/feeds/7205265850585512647/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7256391589055743586&amp;postID=7205265850585512647' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7256391589055743586/posts/default/7205265850585512647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7256391589055743586/posts/default/7205265850585512647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com/2008/09/y-hay-palabras-que-visten-las-flores_15.html' title=''/><author><name>Lore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05741921234636827883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_2y6wHTDgzpQ/R_5I3qz-M7I/AAAAAAAAACw/NBFXK9Fv3Ew/S220/Lore+en+Manufactura.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7256391589055743586.post-7370018191969338458</id><published>2008-09-15T03:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T03:48:42.554-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Y hay palabras que visten a las flores&lt;br /&gt;fonemas que silban con el viento&lt;br /&gt;que rinden su alma, y al momento&lt;br /&gt;encienden sus mejillas con rubores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lena&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7256391589055743586-7370018191969338458?l=losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com/feeds/7370018191969338458/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7256391589055743586&amp;postID=7370018191969338458' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7256391589055743586/posts/default/7370018191969338458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7256391589055743586/posts/default/7370018191969338458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com/2008/09/y-hay-palabras-que-visten-las-flores.html' title=''/><author><name>Lore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05741921234636827883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_2y6wHTDgzpQ/R_5I3qz-M7I/AAAAAAAAACw/NBFXK9Fv3Ew/S220/Lore+en+Manufactura.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7256391589055743586.post-6376275170583167053</id><published>2008-06-04T19:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T19:40:43.902-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reloj del Sol naciente</title><content type='html'>Cuando era tarde para todo&lt;br /&gt;me compré un reloj,&lt;br /&gt;un reloj automático,&lt;br /&gt;automático de acero,&lt;br /&gt;de acero y de Japón.&lt;br /&gt;Por su naturaleza,&lt;br /&gt;su vida dependía de la mía.&lt;br /&gt;Y así con esta industria&lt;br /&gt;se crea mi futuro cada día.&lt;br /&gt;Sin trampa ni cartón.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuando nadie daba una perra&lt;br /&gt;chica por mi vida, yo me compre un reloj&lt;br /&gt;porque era&lt;br /&gt;el símbolo del tiempo,&lt;br /&gt;el tic-tac de la vida.&lt;br /&gt;En tiempos de zozobra,&lt;br /&gt;una quimera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Debía ser&lt;br /&gt;una máquina especial, pensé.&lt;br /&gt;No valía que tuviera un corazón&lt;br /&gt;de cuarzo, con vida independiente.&lt;br /&gt;Ya está, me dije.&lt;br /&gt;Será un instrumento de medida,&lt;br /&gt;de mi vida dependiente.&lt;br /&gt;Así sus manecillas&lt;br /&gt;marcarán  las horas&lt;br /&gt;como el regalo de mi vida.&lt;br /&gt;El balet de las horas en la esfera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Algunos pensarían&lt;br /&gt;que es un capricho tonto y,&lt;br /&gt;puede que aun lo piensen. Incluso&lt;br /&gt;El relojero con gran convencimiento me decía:&lt;br /&gt;"No es muy exacto, varía algún segundo"&lt;br /&gt;-Y a mi qué- pensé.&lt;br /&gt;Como si el sol, para salir en punto,&lt;br /&gt;necesitara reloj de cuarzo.&lt;br /&gt;...Y sale todos los días.&lt;br /&gt;todos los días de punta en blanco.&lt;br /&gt;Desde hace mucho, todos los días&lt;br /&gt;¡Desde hace tanto!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desde entonces vamos&lt;br /&gt;juntos´funcionando,&lt;br /&gt;a la hora en punto, de la vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Los dos somos dos&lt;br /&gt;piezas vivas del reloj inabarcable.&lt;br /&gt;La propia vida.&lt;br /&gt;Por eso me regalé el reloj&lt;br /&gt;de corazón aparente&lt;br /&gt;con una esfera de nieve&lt;br /&gt;y nombre de sol naciente.&lt;br /&gt;Para celebrar la vida,&lt;br /&gt;el regalo del tiempo;&lt;br /&gt;no para medir la vida,&lt;br /&gt;que es inconmensurable,&lt;br /&gt;sino,&lt;br /&gt;para ser&lt;br /&gt;o sentir el propio tiempo&lt;br /&gt;y las estaciones&lt;br /&gt;según el momento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Llevamos un año en sincronía,&lt;br /&gt;un año, cinco meses&lt;br /&gt;y unos días,&lt;br /&gt;de un nuevo comienzo.&lt;br /&gt;A vosotros, y al resto de la gente...&lt;br /&gt;os ofrezco este modesto presente.&lt;br /&gt;Piensa y siente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GatoFénix&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7256391589055743586-6376275170583167053?l=losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com/feeds/6376275170583167053/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7256391589055743586&amp;postID=6376275170583167053' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7256391589055743586/posts/default/6376275170583167053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7256391589055743586/posts/default/6376275170583167053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com/2008/06/reloj-del-sol-naciente.html' title='Reloj del Sol naciente'/><author><name>Lore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05741921234636827883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_2y6wHTDgzpQ/R_5I3qz-M7I/AAAAAAAAACw/NBFXK9Fv3Ew/S220/Lore+en+Manufactura.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7256391589055743586.post-6749728674808155105</id><published>2008-06-04T19:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T19:39:08.595-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aportando ideas...</title><content type='html'>Es momento de cantar con alegrías&lt;br /&gt;las dulzuras de una vida dedicada;&lt;br /&gt;apartando situaciones heredadas,&lt;br /&gt;distanciando las pasiones y herejías.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El poeta cantara en su fantasía&lt;br /&gt;la belleza con palabras bien buscadas,&lt;br /&gt;para dar la visión ilusionada&lt;br /&gt;de tener agradables nuestros días.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yo me pido tener la picardía&lt;br /&gt;en la mano sensible y delicada,&lt;br /&gt;para dar la agradable sinfonía&lt;br /&gt;de una música, que llegue hasta tu alma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emilio.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7256391589055743586-6749728674808155105?l=losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com/feeds/6749728674808155105/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7256391589055743586&amp;postID=6749728674808155105' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7256391589055743586/posts/default/6749728674808155105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7256391589055743586/posts/default/6749728674808155105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com/2008/06/aportando-ideas.html' title='Aportando ideas...'/><author><name>Lore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05741921234636827883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_2y6wHTDgzpQ/R_5I3qz-M7I/AAAAAAAAACw/NBFXK9Fv3Ew/S220/Lore+en+Manufactura.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7256391589055743586.post-7482636528852192390</id><published>2008-06-04T19:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T19:37:09.254-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Op. 2</title><content type='html'>Quisiera tenerte, quisiera abrazarte,&lt;br /&gt;quisiera sentirte, mas sólo es soñarte.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Ya sé que no puedo, ya sé que no debo,&lt;br /&gt;ya sé que es conquista, ya sé que es un juego.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Por eso me duele profundo en el pecho&lt;br /&gt;desgarra mi alma tan hondo secreto.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Mirada que siento. Estremecimiento.&lt;br /&gt;Palabra que escucho. Sabor muy adentro.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Mas tiembla mi suerte pensando y sintiendo.&lt;br /&gt;No quiero traiciones, por eso no cedo.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;           Lore&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7256391589055743586-7482636528852192390?l=losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com/feeds/7482636528852192390/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7256391589055743586&amp;postID=7482636528852192390' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7256391589055743586/posts/default/7482636528852192390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7256391589055743586/posts/default/7482636528852192390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com/2008/06/op-2.html' title='Op. 2'/><author><name>Lore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05741921234636827883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_2y6wHTDgzpQ/R_5I3qz-M7I/AAAAAAAAACw/NBFXK9Fv3Ew/S220/Lore+en+Manufactura.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7256391589055743586.post-7968155069020762273</id><published>2008-06-04T19:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T19:35:21.764-07:00</updated><title type='text'>¿Recuerdas?....</title><content type='html'>Pensabas que rimando te agobiabas&lt;br /&gt;y veo en estos versos la destreza&lt;br /&gt;de métricas y rimas en pureza&lt;br /&gt;que en verso la belleza me mostrabas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No ibas sola, pues yo te acompañaba,&lt;br /&gt;subiendo a tu castillo con presteza,&lt;br /&gt;tu gesto recuerda a la realeza&lt;br /&gt;del beso enamorado que te daba.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colmillos  amenazan  en el aire,&lt;br /&gt;tratando de  morder tu blanco cuello;&lt;br /&gt;mi vena les detiene tal degüello.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Es recuerdo de  ese día por aquello ?,&lt;br /&gt;pensando por la vida y por la muerte,&lt;br /&gt;mis ojos aun reflejan tu destello.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emilio.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7256391589055743586-7968155069020762273?l=losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com/feeds/7968155069020762273/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7256391589055743586&amp;postID=7968155069020762273' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7256391589055743586/posts/default/7968155069020762273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7256391589055743586/posts/default/7968155069020762273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com/2008/06/recuerdas.html' title='¿Recuerdas?....'/><author><name>Lore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05741921234636827883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_2y6wHTDgzpQ/R_5I3qz-M7I/AAAAAAAAACw/NBFXK9Fv3Ew/S220/Lore+en+Manufactura.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7256391589055743586.post-8608032009758686722</id><published>2008-06-04T19:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T19:28:37.343-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Batallando en los campos del amor</title><content type='html'>Soñando besos de arena&lt;br /&gt;con tus versos has soplado,&lt;br /&gt;las delicias de mi estado&lt;br /&gt;que por bonita y morena&lt;br /&gt;el corazon me has robado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La conquista sin batalla&lt;br /&gt;llego a mis campos vencidos,&lt;br /&gt;pues al verte quede yo herido&lt;br /&gt;y no pude dar la talla&lt;br /&gt;porque eras tu, mi enemigo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuando tus ojos paseas&lt;br /&gt;viendo tus huestes luchar&lt;br /&gt;las mias lo pasan mal&lt;br /&gt;y se acaba la pelea,&lt;br /&gt;cuando te veo pasar&lt;br /&gt;victoriosa y altanera&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todo lo mio ya es tuyo&lt;br /&gt;pues en justa lid ganaste;&lt;br /&gt;un suspiro ha de escaparse&lt;br /&gt;de mi corazon al tuyo&lt;br /&gt;si es mi fortuna, encontrarte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emilio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7256391589055743586-8608032009758686722?l=losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com/feeds/8608032009758686722/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7256391589055743586&amp;postID=8608032009758686722' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7256391589055743586/posts/default/8608032009758686722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7256391589055743586/posts/default/8608032009758686722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com/2008/06/batallando-en-los-campos-del-amor.html' title='Batallando en los campos del amor'/><author><name>Lore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05741921234636827883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_2y6wHTDgzpQ/R_5I3qz-M7I/AAAAAAAAACw/NBFXK9Fv3Ew/S220/Lore+en+Manufactura.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7256391589055743586.post-9045457570175412107</id><published>2008-06-04T19:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T19:26:42.593-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Llanto de Luna</title><content type='html'>...si el amor muere en la noche &lt;br /&gt;  provocando así mi llanto &lt;br /&gt;  y el dolor &lt;br /&gt;  es tu luz todo un derroche &lt;br /&gt;  que a mi alma causa espanto &lt;br /&gt;  gran pavor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Si tú, hombre,  ya no sientes &lt;br /&gt;  mi tibio baño de espuma, &lt;br /&gt;  ni el candor &lt;br /&gt;  de pieles  concupiscentes &lt;br /&gt;  y te pierdes en la bruma &lt;br /&gt;  sin  ardor... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  será que ha muerto mi hechizo &lt;br /&gt;  y el resplandor de mis ojos, &lt;br /&gt;  ya es menor, &lt;br /&gt;  o te has vuelto tornadizo &lt;br /&gt;  y has vestido con enojos &lt;br /&gt;  al amor. &lt;br /&gt;                  LENA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7256391589055743586-9045457570175412107?l=losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com/feeds/9045457570175412107/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7256391589055743586&amp;postID=9045457570175412107' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7256391589055743586/posts/default/9045457570175412107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7256391589055743586/posts/default/9045457570175412107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com/2008/06/llanto-de-luna.html' title='Llanto de Luna'/><author><name>Lore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05741921234636827883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_2y6wHTDgzpQ/R_5I3qz-M7I/AAAAAAAAACw/NBFXK9Fv3Ew/S220/Lore+en+Manufactura.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7256391589055743586.post-8747393715146946555</id><published>2008-06-04T19:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T19:19:06.282-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Será?</title><content type='html'>En mi alma diluvian imágenes suaves,&lt;br /&gt;colores que emergen como manantiales.&lt;br /&gt;Cálidos perfumes envuelven mi cuerpo &lt;br /&gt;que  flota tranquilo... abrazado al viento.&lt;br /&gt;Fluyen los sonidos, gotas de cristal&lt;br /&gt;reflejan en mí gran felicidad.&lt;br /&gt;Es sentir el todo y la nada a la vez&lt;br /&gt;Es volar de ensueño, ver mundo sin ver.&lt;br /&gt;Sutileza de miel, ternura que ha de abrigar&lt;br /&gt;mi ser en la plenitud. Es descanso. Es paz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lore&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7256391589055743586-8747393715146946555?l=losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com/feeds/8747393715146946555/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7256391589055743586&amp;postID=8747393715146946555' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7256391589055743586/posts/default/8747393715146946555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7256391589055743586/posts/default/8747393715146946555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://losescritosdelorena.blogspot.com/2008/06/ser.html' title='Será?'/><author><name>Lore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05741921234636827883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_2y6wHTDgzpQ/R_5I3qz-M7I/AAAAAAAAACw/NBFXK9Fv3Ew/S220/Lore+en+Manufactura.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
