<?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-5045942917482360817</id><updated>2012-01-20T18:41:34.025-03:00</updated><category term='carta'/><category term='flor silvestre'/><category term='saudade'/><category term='amor'/><category term='Piracuruca'/><category term='solidão'/><category term='Foto Google'/><title type='text'>CARTAS DE AMOR - Teresa Cristina flordecaju</title><subtitle type='html'>Uma palavra cor de flores foi lançada na manhã de um poeta... e as pétalas desabrocharam... Era verão... e o céu se enfeitou de azul... riscado com o lápis do coração de uma mulher. Depois, as cores queimaram o peito dela... e se apaixonou pelo poema da vida... O poeta? Disse que o amor nunca morre...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>52</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-7458842798823975504</id><published>2012-01-14T22:06:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2012-01-14T22:08:56.705-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7Sr75x0RuI8/TxImP5PHUEI/AAAAAAAABbY/eqLOhD65Rew/s1600/IMG0509A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7Sr75x0RuI8/TxImP5PHUEI/AAAAAAAABbY/eqLOhD65Rew/s320/IMG0509A.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Caríssimo,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Hoje quero saber de ti. Na verdade, a noite de repente se tornou triste. Caíram meus olhos num pranto manso e deixaram um vazio dentro em mim.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Momentos assim, eu espio minha alma pra ver os buracos que se fundaram em meu peito. E para puxar um pouco de luz ou mesmo assentar meus olhos em algo bom, busco tua imagem, de quando estivemos juntos. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dias inteiros e bonitos, dos largos passeios com tua voz a dizer-me que o amor quando habita entre os poetas é para sempre... &amp;nbsp;Muito além de nossos dias, da distância que nos rouba abraços e beijos. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mas minha mente sabe que quando as flores se desembrulham na primavera... Elas ficam extremamente radiantes de vida e não precisam ouvir que sempre serão lembradas, que o perfume delas será interminável...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Têm mesmo dias que queremos viver novamente o que passou... E adormecemos como se o tic-tac do relógio parasse...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O meu beijo.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&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/5045942917482360817-7458842798823975504?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/7458842798823975504/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=7458842798823975504&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/7458842798823975504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/7458842798823975504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2012/01/carissimo-hoje-quero-saber-de-ti.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7Sr75x0RuI8/TxImP5PHUEI/AAAAAAAABbY/eqLOhD65Rew/s72-c/IMG0509A.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-6931950714838965801</id><published>2011-11-01T23:05:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2011-11-01T23:05:26.756-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='carta'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='saudade'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amor'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xutFCCkQ9Gs/TrClIsYow-I/AAAAAAAABXo/3RquqewXOZ8/s1600/IMG0268A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xutFCCkQ9Gs/TrClIsYow-I/AAAAAAAABXo/3RquqewXOZ8/s320/IMG0268A.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Caríssimo,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Escurece. Embora estrelas acendam-se por todo o céu. A rua fica mais aberta com esse palpitar de luzes. Apenas meus passos são fracos, pela noite adentro.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;É terça-feira de novembro. E, justamente hoje recebo de ti desejos de eu ter uma boa primavera. Mas aqui ainda é verão. Nesta hora do sono, em que ouço lá fora os sons dos grilos, quanto mais penso em ti, mais um calor toma conta de mim.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Resolvo balançar-me numa rede. Que bom! A frescura toma conta da varanda. (Parece que as estrelas interrompem o que estão fazendo para me impressionar por cima das árvores).&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Calo-me. Às vezes fico assim em silêncio, pequenina, com saudades de ti.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sempre à noitinha, voltam as lembranças de nossos beijos, como brotando de dentro de mim. Foi numa noite como esta que nos amamos pela primeira vez. Numa noite assim, tirei minhas defesas e me dei completamente a ti. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O vestido de alças, os pés descalços e a areia da praia e, andando sem pressa - nós dois. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Foi como se dois corpos se tornassem um só. Não se via senão o amor. Tua voz grave e doce me dizendo que seria para sempre. &amp;nbsp;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mas agora enxugo minhas lágrimas. Assim cheia de saudades. Meu olhar está entregue a uma dor intensa. Como se me tivessem tirado os sonhos. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Oh! Caríssimo, lá no alto as estrelas apenas me dizem que a vida segue...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E uma voz chorosa e triste, dentro de mim, repete que preciso de ti...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Vem...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Quem me dera estar contigo agora!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&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/5045942917482360817-6931950714838965801?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/6931950714838965801/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=6931950714838965801&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/6931950714838965801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/6931950714838965801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2011/11/carissimo-escurece.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xutFCCkQ9Gs/TrClIsYow-I/AAAAAAAABXo/3RquqewXOZ8/s72-c/IMG0268A.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-7510742842949125280</id><published>2011-08-13T17:31:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2011-08-13T17:31:53.382-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='solidão'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='saudade'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amor'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sv2cSF5DjWA/Tkbe6btQ5wI/AAAAAAAABWM/mUlaYRbbdFY/s1600/Sem-amor-o-coracao-naum-respira.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="235" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sv2cSF5DjWA/Tkbe6btQ5wI/AAAAAAAABWM/mUlaYRbbdFY/s320/Sem-amor-o-coracao-naum-respira.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; Foto Google&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Caríssimo,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Hoje mais que nunca senti vontade de te falar. Sei que tem a ver como me encontro. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Olha, ando muito solitária. E que minha solidão não seja diária, é o que peço em&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;minhas orações. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Quando passo por lugares onde estivemos; quando me lembro da ternura de teus olhos sinto-me mais e mais precisa de ti. E é inútil fingir que te esqueci. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Às vezes, repito, em pensamentos, nossas conversas. Quero descobrir o porquê de teu silêncio. Que eu saiba, mesmo que na hora da despedida eu te disse que te amava.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Estou sendo repetitiva? Que importa?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sou louca por ti. E sinto cada vez mais que não posso te esquecer.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ai, e que Deus não faça com que esta solidão me destrua.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Que Ele me dê forças para continuar seguindo...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O meu beijo a ti. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&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/5045942917482360817-7510742842949125280?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/7510742842949125280/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=7510742842949125280&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/7510742842949125280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/7510742842949125280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2011/08/foto-google-carissimo-hoje-mais-que.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sv2cSF5DjWA/Tkbe6btQ5wI/AAAAAAAABWM/mUlaYRbbdFY/s72-c/Sem-amor-o-coracao-naum-respira.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-5214515728318427904</id><published>2011-05-29T16:44:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2011-05-29T18:51:11.251-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Piracuruca'/><title type='text'>Férias</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l0hjKniJj7w/TeK_vhMARBI/AAAAAAAABTU/bPlxEMvyguY/s1600/IMG0252A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l0hjKniJj7w/TeK_vhMARBI/AAAAAAAABTU/bPlxEMvyguY/s320/IMG0252A.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Caríssimo,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #0b5394; text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #0b5394; text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Hoje é tarde de domingo e eu estou esboçando um novo sonho. Minha ideia de passear em julho tem se tornado a cada dia mais forte. Não é a primeira vez que me pego planejando uns dias num sítio, como em minha infância. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #0b5394; text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Eu vejo a mim mesma com um vestido leve, sandálias de dedo e cabelos curtos ao vento (como sempre). Sei que a vista de todo o lugar será agradável e convidativa a caminhadas ao amanhecer. Haverá flores silvestres brancas e amarelas (sei que são as predominantes nas matas nesta época). A noção de banhos nesse horário é uma lembrança gostosa de quando eu era criança.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #0b5394; text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;As férias parecem ser o único assunto dos professores na hora do recreio, ao menos os da escola em que trabalho. O assunto surge também na lanchonete onde tomo meu sorvete (lembras, João, que prefiro o sabor goiaba?), na pracinha e, até mesmo, na igreja. Outro domingo, minha cunhada Amparo soube que pretendo sair de férias para um local tranquilo e se convidou a ir comigo. Aceitei certamente. Ela é uma excelente companhia para esse tipo de ambiente – não é a primeira vez que saio com ela a passeios.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #0b5394; text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E me seguro para não comparar os dias que ainda terei até a data com os das férias, quando estou sozinha em minha varanda como hoje. Mas enquanto elas não chegam, pesquiso na memória alguns possíveis lugares no sul do estado do Piauí. No que diz respeito a rios, há em várias cidades pequenas – bem o que quero. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #0b5394; text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Balanço a rede com um dos pés na parede, perguntando-me por que não tiro um cochilo e sonho com minhas férias. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5045942917482360817-5214515728318427904?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/5214515728318427904/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=5214515728318427904&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/5214515728318427904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/5214515728318427904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2011/05/ferias.html' title='Férias'/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l0hjKniJj7w/TeK_vhMARBI/AAAAAAAABTU/bPlxEMvyguY/s72-c/IMG0252A.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-457815001759472704</id><published>2011-05-26T16:11:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2011-05-26T16:35:05.979-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AuwJDAW0VKo/Td6rVByWjSI/AAAAAAAABTM/q_rwUvRyFJM/s1600/IMG0161A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AuwJDAW0VKo/Td6rVByWjSI/AAAAAAAABTM/q_rwUvRyFJM/s1600/IMG0161A.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Caríssimo,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sei que estive ausente – tantas e tantas perguntas me fiz. Foram meus sonhos perdidos a razão dessa ausência.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O medo de seguir adiante depois de tua partida e, sei que ainda te amo.&amp;nbsp; Como explicar tua presença dentro de mim? Ainda me lembro de tua voz, teus gestos na hora do amor. Disso não tenho dúvidas.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ah,  tu estás comigo quando o sentido para a vida é um verdadeiro amor. O  caminhar de meus passos são para os dias em que estivemos juntos – a teu  lado um simples passeio pela rua foi mágico! (Risos) Lembras da escola  que visitamos? Estive lá semana passada. Fecho os olhos e me descubro  com teu sorriso na foto. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Eu  não quis me afastar. Todavia, dentro de mim havia o medo de não  conseguir chegar a ti com minhas palavras. Mas hoje sei que sempre  estaremos juntos. É uma questão de lógica do amor: Eu te amo. E esse  amor não vai se acabar.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Eu  vivo os meus dias com a ternura de teus olhos e a sinceridade de tuas  palavras. Sei que nossa história foi de um grande e verdadeiro amor. Eu  não me iludi. Do abraço ao encontro entre nossos corpos houve sempre um  sentimento real - fomos dois amantes na exatidão da palavra. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tenho  hoje em mim um ponto seguro a seguir – a certeza de que fui tua e de  que foste meu. Porém não me apoio nele para uma ilusão de ainda te ver  um dia: sei que é impossível, pelas razões citadas ainda antes de nosso  encontro. Todavia, ter estado em teus braços me é motivo de sentir para  sempre teus beijos, teu toque em minha pele, teu cheiro em meu corpo...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E  minha ausência então foi boa – refleti e descobri que nunca deixei de  te amar. Então não posso pensar que os sonhos estão perdidos. O amor  vive em mim. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sem mais palavras, &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Meu carinho.&lt;/b&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/5045942917482360817-457815001759472704?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/457815001759472704/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=457815001759472704&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/457815001759472704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/457815001759472704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2011/05/carissimo-sei-que-estive-ausente-tantas.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AuwJDAW0VKo/Td6rVByWjSI/AAAAAAAABTM/q_rwUvRyFJM/s72-c/IMG0161A.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-7511276360007708988</id><published>2011-01-23T13:58:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2011-01-23T13:58:39.803-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TTxeA8n_xoI/AAAAAAAABNY/xvMyH52bfac/s1600/O+que+sou+hoje.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TTxeA8n_xoI/AAAAAAAABNY/xvMyH52bfac/s1600/O+que+sou+hoje.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Poeta,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Uma enorme calma n’alma repousa em meu dia. E meus olhos postos na serenidade das árvores acalmam-me ainda mais. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mas meu corpo está sedutoramente frenético! Com meus pensamentos em teus versos de amor (lembras do poeminha romântico?), ondulo meus lábios com vontades de te beijar. E assim, meus olhos parecem-me girar no corpo sentindo carícias de tuas palavras. E como as aves levantam voo nesta tarde, deixo meus braços flutuarem como se estivessem descansando em teu peito. É maravilhosa a sensação- sinto que fizemos amor. &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ora, em horas destas em que os elementos da natureza são de uma harmonia, tal minha alma, apanho o calor da tarde e encho meu coração de bocas, de gritos nossos. E tomo os rumos de uma lembrança gostosa, de noites em que ficamos debaixo de lençóis nos amando.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ah, as duas cartas que recebi de ti foram postas na mesinha ao lado da cama. Estão lá para serem lidas e relidas toda vez que eu me sentir longe de ti. Sei, sei que eu devo é olhar para o dia e buscar sentir esta natureza toda que me envolve ou ficarei aqui com vontades imensas de beijos teus. Bem, tenho mesmo de refrear meus pensamentos ou acabo com a quietude dentro de mim. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mas em algum lugar canta um pássaro triste com saudades de amor. E tomo as liras dele para te dizer que estou saudosa. Muito. Ainda nos veremos novamente?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Um dia atrás do outro... e uma coisa de cada vez. Foi maravilhoso o momento que vivemos. Porém, a vida nos separa. Sim, e enxugo minhas lágrimas sentindo a calma da tarde.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O meu carinho. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&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/5045942917482360817-7511276360007708988?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/7511276360007708988/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=7511276360007708988&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/7511276360007708988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/7511276360007708988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2011/01/poeta-uma-enorme-calma-nalma-repousa-em.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TTxeA8n_xoI/AAAAAAAABNY/xvMyH52bfac/s72-c/O+que+sou+hoje.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-2435251885589421368</id><published>2011-01-21T18:57:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2011-01-21T18:57:07.406-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TToA7SZVOyI/AAAAAAAABMw/tL2zcInoFrs/s1600/Guia-Pet-2b22c7e272.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="236" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TToA7SZVOyI/AAAAAAAABMw/tL2zcInoFrs/s320/Guia-Pet-2b22c7e272.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Caríssimo,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Com palavras quase inertes e olhar triste, digo-te que esta carta não leva apenas minha voz- mas minhas mãos, meu rosto e meu corpo em cada linha. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Estamos distantes, como podemos conversar se já não nos entendemos? Vê que não falo de espaço geográfico. Maior é a distância provocada pela mágoa do que me disseste ontem.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Não, não posso controlar minha voz. Meu coração encontra este vazio que há dentro de mim, e preciso dizer do que sinto. A dor é inexorável. Quando me leres, saberás que não me converti em lágrimas, mas num enorme espaço entre os sonhos de amor e nós. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;De muito longe avisto teus olhos, tuas mãos e teu corpo sobre o meu. Nesta tarde, nesta sala não há histórias de amor. O vento que entra por minha janela é frio de calor. As árvores estão paradas de sentimento. Tudo é imóvel. Estou sentada com os olhos distantes, sem nada ver. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E tudo corre seguramente para o fim do dia. Em redor das horas, o que perdemos. Eu te perdi.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;(E eu que me vi, em teus braços, como a imagem de uma flor!...)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mas sigamos (tu mo disseste).&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Adeus.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5045942917482360817-2435251885589421368?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/2435251885589421368/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=2435251885589421368&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/2435251885589421368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/2435251885589421368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2011/01/carissimo-com-palavras-quase-inertes-e_21.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TToA7SZVOyI/AAAAAAAABMw/tL2zcInoFrs/s72-c/Guia-Pet-2b22c7e272.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-6860514718365017539</id><published>2011-01-04T21:55:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2011-01-04T21:57:31.276-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TSPAqWFeA9I/AAAAAAAABK8/ip2YbcHDMKI/s1600/Flor+branca.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TSPAqWFeA9I/AAAAAAAABK8/ip2YbcHDMKI/s400/Flor+branca.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Meu poeta,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Agora que te achei, sinto uma sombra macia dentro de meus segredos. Não há como ter medo do amanhã. Encontrei-te, e meu coração não está mais perdido.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Agora, posso voltar a gritar que amo... Agora posso sentir meu sorriso inteiro para a vida. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Meus olhos pedem-me que eu não esqueça nada – do tamanho de teus beijos correndo por minha boca, do cheiro de tua pele encostada à minha e do doce frescor de teus dedos em meu corpo.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E quando todos descobrirem que a noite é nossa? Que a lua afasta os pés de nossa janela com olhos brilhantes?&amp;nbsp; E que as estrelas silenciosas de nossos gemidos, jamais negam que o infinito também nos pertence?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mas nada disso te é estranho, quando eu já falei em tons de viagem:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Um dia, não muito longe,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;eu serei envolvida por teu beijo ardente, &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;debaixo de uma chuva de sentidos. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E para me enxugarem os pés e a cabeça, &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;terão de me cobrir de terra...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;ou esperar que o tempo se acabe.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O meu beijo. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&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/5045942917482360817-6860514718365017539?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/6860514718365017539/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=6860514718365017539&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/6860514718365017539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/6860514718365017539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2011/01/meu-poeta-agora-que-te-achei-sinto-uma.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TSPAqWFeA9I/AAAAAAAABK8/ip2YbcHDMKI/s72-c/Flor+branca.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-4997036938929394151</id><published>2011-01-03T21:37:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2011-01-03T21:37:09.050-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TSJrSxHZJAI/AAAAAAAABK0/eClOSIcH6k8/s1600/XX+NASCER+DO+SOL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="280" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TSJrSxHZJAI/AAAAAAAABK0/eClOSIcH6k8/s400/XX+NASCER+DO+SOL.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Amor,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Este beijo da felicidade... é o que procuro.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ah, noite de luar!&amp;nbsp; Caminha-se por entre estrelas, tão calmas, tão cheias de luz! Pena que na hora de dormir, fecha-se a porta e a cama está fria!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Não procuro um amor com esse brilho inigualável das estrelas, bastaria o fulgor de dois olhos procurando o caminho de minha pele morena... de meus sentidos... que me enlaçasse no calor de uma noite de verão!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nenhuma canção de seresteiro me tocaria mais a alma, que as mãos amadas na superfície de minhas pernas.. &amp;nbsp;no desenho audacioso de meus seios... ou em concentração da descoberta de meus lábios. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Como um vento macio debaixo de meus lençóis, furtando arrepios de meu sangue – que quero um assim amor não nego! Ofereço a este amor meus segredos, guardados para além dos encantos das histórias românticas, dos livros de princesas... Para além dos avisos de que só se é feliz por um instante!...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Quero é escrever minha história no alimento de um beijo deste amor... entre os pelos de meus gemidos... ou no agasalho de seu coração.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E quero deste amor que procuro, que pode ser sem explicação ou nomes, um eterno sentimento de uma vida inteira. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Meu beijo.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5045942917482360817-4997036938929394151?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/4997036938929394151/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=4997036938929394151&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/4997036938929394151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/4997036938929394151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2011/01/amor-este-beijo-da-felicidade.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TSJrSxHZJAI/AAAAAAAABK0/eClOSIcH6k8/s72-c/XX+NASCER+DO+SOL.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-31662467827813869</id><published>2011-01-01T08:38:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2011-01-01T09:01:35.905-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Foto Google'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TR8Vyugi1uI/AAAAAAAABKw/9nDOVcmhYRc/s1600/CAATINGA_03-BA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="277" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TR8Vyugi1uI/AAAAAAAABKw/9nDOVcmhYRc/s400/CAATINGA_03-BA.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Caríssimo,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Escrevo-te como quem desfolha uma vida e fica nua de proteção dentro dos olhos.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mas aqui terminamos nossa história (sinto a vida sair-me da palma das mãos...). Talvez por não haver mais nada a dizer... O que foi nosso amor?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ficou perdido num mundo sem palavras... Teus passos estavam longe.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mais longe um gesto teu de carinho. Eu te sustentei em meus versos, mesmo com teu silêncio. E ao que parece tudo caiu numa muralha de teu coração. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tenho me perguntado se meu nome alguma vez correu dentro de teu peito... Ou a estrada era muito longa? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Por muito tempo, houve cantigas em minhas emoções _ Havia teu sorriso e umas palavras tuas &amp;nbsp;minguando algo que podia ser amor. Mas não passava disso. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Um dia, vi que havia novas folhas nascendo, assim sem aviso. Uma espécie de janela surgindo quando abri a porta de minhas emoções. E o dia amanhece. Onde até as flores querem frutificar...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;De Teresa (a que era chamada de índia). &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;P.S. Tenho um carinho gostoso por tudo que vivemos. Mas as lembranças foram minguando...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&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/5045942917482360817-31662467827813869?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/31662467827813869/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=31662467827813869&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/31662467827813869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/31662467827813869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2011/01/carissimo-escrevo-te-como-quem-desfolha.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TR8Vyugi1uI/AAAAAAAABKw/9nDOVcmhYRc/s72-c/CAATINGA_03-BA.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-8143213384803396654</id><published>2010-12-29T18:06:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-12-29T18:07:52.693-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TRuhU9xk1bI/AAAAAAAABKk/GXtTzA7gYgw/s1600/carna%25C3%25BAbas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TRuhU9xk1bI/AAAAAAAABKk/GXtTzA7gYgw/s400/carna%25C3%25BAbas.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Caríssimo,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O cair da tarde por entre a rua... E pouso meus em coisas de minha terra...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;A pracinha da igreja e os meninos que brincam em suas calçadas... a mangueira na porta da casa de seu Nélson, carregada de frutos... e o cantar dos pássaros por todo lado...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sento-me numa cadeira e fico observando quem passa... (Um homem de uns cinquenta anos conversa com uma criança perto do coreto, erguendo os olhos para o fim da rua... Vejo nele tanto de ti...) E deixo-me pensar em teu caminhar... No sorriso de teus olhos, unidos aos meus, em horas de nossas conversas. Lembras como eu te olhava?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Estávamos no hotel. Hora do jantar... Só meus olhos castanho-escuros denunciavam o meu querer ardente por ti... Mas isso não te passou despercebido... Lembro que disseste baixinho: “Tenha calma, logo, logo estaremos a sós!” E por toda a noite fiquei te bulinando com os olhos. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Em tuas mãos estava meu corpo. Estava também o poder das palavras. Quanto eu esperei ouvir de ti: “Não é um adeus!”. E quanto me foi difícil partir. De onde me veio tanta força para não te dizer que te amo e que não importa estarmos distantes? Eu devia ter gritado: “Eu te amo mesmo assim...”&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Acontece que parti. E tu ficaste na estação... As pessoas passando, passando e as vozes sussurrando coisas... E não dissemos adeus... Ficamos só nos olhando...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O sol já não se encontra mais pela rua... Cores escuras se lançam por todos os locais... E eu, pensando, pensando, pensando...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Até... &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&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/5045942917482360817-8143213384803396654?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/8143213384803396654/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=8143213384803396654&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/8143213384803396654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/8143213384803396654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2010/12/carissimo-o-cair-da-tarde-por-entre-rua.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TRuhU9xk1bI/AAAAAAAABKk/GXtTzA7gYgw/s72-c/carna%25C3%25BAbas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-8340519782184809182</id><published>2010-12-27T14:52:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-12-27T14:52:05.153-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Piracuruca'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flor silvestre'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TRjR_6zlKnI/AAAAAAAABKA/Ny3D8hYvTj4/s1600/Flor+silvestre.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TRjR_6zlKnI/AAAAAAAABKA/Ny3D8hYvTj4/s320/Flor+silvestre.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Caríssimo,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O Natal foi calmo. Estive sozinha em casa olhando fotos... Iniciei a leitura de um livro “A menina que roubava livros” (presente de uma de minhas filhas); visitei minha mãe e enviei um e-mail para ti... E fiquei nesta saudade louca! Mas o que me deixou feliz hoje é que recebi (atrasado, não importa) teu cartão de Natal e pelos correios. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Fiquei surpresa. Ah, mas como gostei. Quando o carteiro chegou, e reconheci tua letra, meu coração encheu-se de uma emoção tão forte que julguei ser ainda o dia de Natal!... Ora, pelas ações se ajustam o sentimento do Nascimento... Chega-se ao mundo da Paz sem dificuldade...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Como tu estás? Pareceu-me cheio de vida nas palavras (embora poucas)... Porém, dentro das entrelinhas do conteúdo do cartão, há muitos dizeres: saudade, beijos, amor...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E a tua felicidade é a minha. Sabes de nossas conversas? Olhando os dias em que estivemos juntos, pergunto de repente: “Este cartão foi a forma de dizer que ainda me ama, mas que necessitamos ficar distantes?” É assim? Um final de amor com um cartão anunciando que devo seguir e procurar viver sem ti? E blá, blá, blá... ? (Desculpas, falo demais. Estou ansiosa.)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Um amor perto de mim. Outro cheiro. Outra boca encostada à minha, degustando de meus lábios... Onde mora quem escreveu que um novo amor faz esquecer o do coração? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Teus olhos pousavam em mim numa doçura tão boa! Lembro de tu me colocando o lençol sobre o corpo... Alguns momentos a gente guarda para sempre!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Há um céu cinza aqui, enquanto te escrevo... E, as nuvens são esparsas; algumas encobrem o sol. Acho que terei um cair da noite com pancadas de chuva. O quadro do céu é como meu sentimento de agora... Sei que vou chorar ao deitar.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Quanto ao cartão – vou guardá-lo com meus segredos. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Só não te esqueces de sonhar... E que sempre, depois da noite, vem o dia... Quem sabe o amanhã?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Na verdade, esta carta, não é o fim...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Meu beijo. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&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/5045942917482360817-8340519782184809182?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/8340519782184809182/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=8340519782184809182&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/8340519782184809182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/8340519782184809182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2010/12/carissimo-o-natal-foi-calmo.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TRjR_6zlKnI/AAAAAAAABKA/Ny3D8hYvTj4/s72-c/Flor+silvestre.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-8736042614812563307</id><published>2010-12-25T12:39:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-12-25T12:56:53.602-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TRYP1e5yz7I/AAAAAAAABJk/Y-argFfOMn8/s1600/flor+de+ab%25C3%25B3bora.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TRYP1e5yz7I/AAAAAAAABJk/Y-argFfOMn8/s320/flor+de+ab%25C3%25B3bora.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Caríssimo,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Hoje me perguntaram: __ E você, Teresa, também vai falar com seu amor?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Na verdade, meu coração saltou de receios de contar que há mais de um ano não te vejo. &amp;nbsp;Minha própria voz me foi inimiga (ou amiga?!) e nada saiu. Mas como falar de nós, sem dizer que te amo tanto e tanto?!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;A porta da casa está sempre aberta, esperando-te. E perto da varanda as flores num vaso natural – não são tanto do branco, mas do sangue da paixão. &amp;nbsp;Olha-as ao entrar, que tu saberás como estou... completamente apaixonada. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sob o céu agora, há um sol forte. Sei que aí está frio, muito frio. &amp;nbsp;Mas pensa que debaixo dos lençóis estou dormindo contigo. Entre tuas mãos, as minhas - quentes e ternas... Que farias com meu corpo nesta hora? Talvez nem devesse perguntar...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Surgem cenas em minha volta: um homem e uma mulher com sede de amor... O suficiente para me fazer arrepiar (mesmo distante de ti)... Lembro de meu coração acelerado, de teu cheiro pelo corpo inteiro... de teu olhar!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Como eram belos teus olhos! Parecia que estavam sempre me adorando as curvas... numa procissão pelo corpo todo. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Teus olhos tinham uma doçura boa quando pousavam nos meus... Queria tê-los para sempre. Como posso andar por este mundo sem teus olhos? As coisas sem eles me parecem ásperas, sem vida...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ahn! Mas o sol caminha... E preciso ir visitar minha família – é Natal!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Algumas folhas cortam a rua graciosamente... vou segui-las. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sempre vais estar em meus dias...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;P.S. Eu te amo. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&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/5045942917482360817-8736042614812563307?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/8736042614812563307/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=8736042614812563307&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/8736042614812563307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/8736042614812563307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2010/12/carissimo-hoje-me-perguntaram-e-voce.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TRYP1e5yz7I/AAAAAAAABJk/Y-argFfOMn8/s72-c/flor+de+ab%25C3%25B3bora.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-1209212198741150116</id><published>2010-12-22T16:25:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-12-22T16:38:00.908-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TRJQeJ4JpdI/AAAAAAAABI4/9FphpA1xuhI/s1600/teresa+cristina.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="155" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TRJQeJ4JpdI/AAAAAAAABI4/9FphpA1xuhI/s200/teresa+cristina.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Caríssimo,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Durante este ano te escrevi e agora com a aproximação das Festas Natalinas, meu corpo mais quer estar contigo. Meu coração fervilha de amor!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Olha, meus olhos decididamente estão entre o azul do céu e a lembrança de tua boca. Como uma formiga no corpo, caminha um desejo em mim de estar em teus braços. Mas ponho os pés no chão e me deixo ficar de frente para o sol e para o caminho do trabalho, e o que vejo é que te amo mais e mais e mais... O querer de meu corpo é o de sempre, e meus olhos, minha boca e meu coração são elementos de tudo isso...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Por entre as pessoas de minha pequena cidade, passo num cumprimento radiante. Alguns me abraçam rapidamente, outros apenas me olham, e continuo a me dirigir ao trabalho como se o dia fosse ser o que desejo. Não me custa sonhar, penso.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ao lado da pracinha, um menino de uns três anos numa calçada concentra-se no canto dos pássaros de uma velha árvore. “Dem-te-vir!”, ouço-o na linguagem infantil. Sorrio e o menino para momentaneamente, depois me esquece... &amp;nbsp;Antes de dobrar a esquina já o ouço cantar novamente. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sigo e resolvo não olhar para trás. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O canto dos bem-te-vis e a inocência infantil poderiam querer me fazer cantar para ti... Nesses momentos, eu posso dizer com todas as letras o quanto é maravilhoso amar. Ah, tão pouco nos pode fazer feliz! Não há um sentimento melhor que este para se falar de Natal!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chego à escola. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;As crianças estão brincando no pátio.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Agora meu tempo é delas...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;A ti, meu eterno amor, meu beijo. Teresa.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;P.S. Que teu Ano Novo seja de tudo de bom que pode acontecer, o mais, somos adultos e sabíamos que seriam apenas quatro dias para nos amarmos. E foi quanto tivemos. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&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/5045942917482360817-1209212198741150116?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/1209212198741150116/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=1209212198741150116&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/1209212198741150116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/1209212198741150116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2010/12/carissimo-durante-este-ano-te-escrevi-e.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TRJQeJ4JpdI/AAAAAAAABI4/9FphpA1xuhI/s72-c/teresa+cristina.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-5683933824221716539</id><published>2010-12-19T12:21:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-12-19T12:21:15.288-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TQ4iq9Z3_CI/AAAAAAAABIk/5K6zoq9YNqA/s1600/4206892565_cb7d5e5766.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="256" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TQ4iq9Z3_CI/AAAAAAAABIk/5K6zoq9YNqA/s320/4206892565_cb7d5e5766.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Caríssimo, &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Estamos em dezembro. &amp;nbsp;Nada além do canto dos pássaros a meu redor. Chego mais perto das árvores. O verde após a chuva de ontem estala em meus olhos. Uma flor da goiabeira curva-se ao chão. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Agora meu corpo exige uma resposta. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Não sei dizer exatamente com palavras o que vaga dentro de mim. Agacho-me. Estendo uma das mãos e pego a flor, sentindo um prazer em tê-la junto a mim. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Toda a vida quis ter um amor verdadeiro... Quatro dias me disseram que eu poderia virar a página apagada que me foram os anos sem ti...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Examinei bem esses dias... vezes e vezes... Notando a tinta do papel em que foram escritos. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E como poderia esperar, tenho as melhores lembranças. E ainda vão ficar por muito tempo...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ah, posso notar outra coisa: __ Eu te amo!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&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/5045942917482360817-5683933824221716539?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/5683933824221716539/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=5683933824221716539&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/5683933824221716539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/5683933824221716539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2010/12/carissimo-estamos-em-dezembro.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TQ4iq9Z3_CI/AAAAAAAABIk/5K6zoq9YNqA/s72-c/4206892565_cb7d5e5766.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-6228396928876768629</id><published>2010-11-29T19:15:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-11-29T19:33:10.286-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Foto Google'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TPQkV6PnVaI/AAAAAAAABIA/gsoBYa8LE4g/s1600/tarde+port.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TPQkV6PnVaI/AAAAAAAABIA/gsoBYa8LE4g/s320/tarde+port.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;Caríssimo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;O silêncio. Não gosto deste silêncio teu. Soa como estar esperando por algo que não vem, que não tive... Ah, tenho medo de o silêncio durar uma vida. E tapo os olhos para não ver o que me sugere teu silêncio...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;Mas mudemos de assunto. Sabe, tenho dado ultimamente a andar como um autônomo. As folhas passam pelas calçadas levadas pelo vento. Vez em quando sinto que ele me leva e vou. Não há perfume por onde passo. Sinto o enfraquecer da tarde no fim de novembro. E sou apenas um ser que passa, sem sentir o sangue do sol (meu corpo está adormecido) alegre do Nordeste.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;Confesso que me assusto. Toda a minha vida eu fugi do vento, pois ele parecia ler meus pensamentos. Coisa de quem vive trancada num mundo interior. Acho mesmo que devia era ser folha. Eu podia sair por aí... numa animação de quem voa sem ter asas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;Engraçado é que estou o tempo todo a procurar de me lembrar de uma coisa que me aconteceu quando eu era criança. Sei que era verão. Como hoje. Eu subi numa árvore e estendi os braços. Eu procurava uma corrente de vento forte e ela não veio. Estava tudo tão quieto... (lê bem baixinho: Era como este teu silêncio). As folhas até caíam bailando ao chão, mansamente, mansamente. Que podia eu fazer na ocasião? Desci da árvore e voltei triste para casa. E... eu não quero desistir de ti.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;São quase dezoito horas. Agora o sol já se foi descorado... Como se estivesse debaixo de alguns pensamentos tristes. Isso é curioso... Eu jurava que ele estava a rir... procurando me chamar para um pouco de calor! Bem, eu podia aproveitar a noite chegando e ir olhar se tem luar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5045942917482360817-6228396928876768629?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/6228396928876768629/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=6228396928876768629&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/6228396928876768629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/6228396928876768629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2010/11/carissimo-o-silencio.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TPQkV6PnVaI/AAAAAAAABIA/gsoBYa8LE4g/s72-c/tarde+port.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-2984937144405294725</id><published>2010-11-20T23:08:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-11-21T08:22:21.030-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Foto Google'/><title type='text'>Amores esquecidos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TOh-u-wmCiI/AAAAAAAABH4/XB9In6ggMso/s1600/mulher+na+janela+florida.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="244" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TOh-u-wmCiI/AAAAAAAABH4/XB9In6ggMso/s320/mulher+na+janela+florida.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;Escrevo-te...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;A janela voltada para o nascente. Afastou o vaso de flores encarnadas e apoiou os cotovelos no peitoril, escorando o queijo nas mãos. Olhou o sol e sorriu. Sentiu o peito tombar de emoção e não reagiu. Que estranha sensação era aquela em plena desilusão? Se não fosse o tom alaranjado do pôr-do-sol, diriam que estava de novo amor. Estava? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;Era quase impossível: o último lhe viera acordando os sentidos julgados adormecidos pela viuvez. Enrolou-se nos sonhos. Tudo se passara rápido ou era apenas impressão? Uma lágrima se principiou em direção à boca, arrancando brasas no coração. Por ele se fora?, gemeu baixinho. Uma das mãos cuidou de segurar a lágrima. Tarde, porque o pranto já vinha de dentro. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;Mas o que é isso, estou pensando nele outra vez? De novo? Examinou as cartas que escrevera nos longos meses. Todas guardadas nas lembranças. Sim, como lhe escreva palavras de amor. &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;Enveredando um pouco nas recordações, tomou cuidado de acender nas horas em que sentia o perfume dele no quarto. Era um perfume másculo. Deu voltas no que tinha do amado. Não sabe mais do aroma. Mas fica vendo as palavras dele. E como ele mesmo dizia, não olhe tanto as flores, que elas murcham e não se pode passar a vida assim. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;O sol foi-se escondendo, respeitando as normas de fim do dia. A mulher à janela suspirou. Tudo virou quietude. Por que as flores na janela não cheiravam? Apanhou os cotovelos e descansou os braços ao longo do corpo. Ainda vacilou quando a lua veio caminhando nos pés de cajus por entre as poucas folhas de novembro. Mas dentro dela o sonho de amor fora esquecido. Andou para a cozinha e foi fazer um café. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&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/5045942917482360817-2984937144405294725?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/2984937144405294725/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=2984937144405294725&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/2984937144405294725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/2984937144405294725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2010/11/amores-esquecidos.html' title='Amores esquecidos'/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TOh-u-wmCiI/AAAAAAAABH4/XB9In6ggMso/s72-c/mulher+na+janela+florida.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-3826798021288713966</id><published>2010-11-11T21:02:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-11-11T21:14:05.876-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Foto Google'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TNyDx7qx8BI/AAAAAAAABHg/o15bbKXucco/s1600/amor+-+na+cama1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="221" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TNyDx7qx8BI/AAAAAAAABHg/o15bbKXucco/s320/amor+-+na+cama1.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Querido,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;É bom dormir sobre teu peito. Teu cheiro, encostado ao meu, acende-me o corpo&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;à noite e se conserva durante o dia em meu travesseiro. E sabes bem como adoro te apalpar por baixos das cobertas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Hum, meu coração batendo os toques em euforia, pergunta: Pensas em mim por onde andas?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;E como te amar é viver num reino encanto, digo-lhe: feche os olhos e pense somente nele!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;E fecho-os. A verdade é que te vejo em meus sonhos... Eu já voei e atravessei todo o oceano... Tu já me viste por aí, em bater de asas? Não? Pois voo até em balões...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;O dia inteiro cuido de trabalho, e ouço música e cantar de pássaros. Depois, escuto, bem na noite, os suspiros de meu coração que viaja em lembranças de nossos beijos, de nossas noites... “Não pensas mais nessas noites?”...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;................................................................&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Meu coração pergunta “Se teu amor tem outro nome”.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Não respondas logo, quero gritar... E vou dormir pensando em teu calor, na noite iluminada, a lua acesa...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5045942917482360817-3826798021288713966?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/3826798021288713966/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=3826798021288713966&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/3826798021288713966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/3826798021288713966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2010/11/querido-e-bom-dormir-sobre-teu-peito.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TNyDx7qx8BI/AAAAAAAABHg/o15bbKXucco/s72-c/amor+-+na+cama1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-5701878575667515339</id><published>2010-10-29T17:14:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-10-29T17:15:25.139-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TMsqzCTIAEI/AAAAAAAABHM/sOJz8u2qrWk/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TMsqzCTIAEI/AAAAAAAABHM/sOJz8u2qrWk/s400/images.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Caríssimo,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Lá vai a tarde; não ouço os sons de adeus. E caminha sozinha. E não encontra respostas, também não pergunta se o amanhã será duramente quente. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sem socorro estão as árvores. O bem-te-vi que cantava aqui fugiu. E as lagoas choram tristes sem as garças para desfilarem ao banhar.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E fico confusa diante das folhas ao chão. Vejo os galhos vazios, sem vozes de pássaros. Queria que meu coração falasse; mas apenas me abraça de uma forma calada. Parece que entende o valor do silêncio da tarde. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sozinha a tarde vai com meu olhar... E leva minha saudade pra meu amor. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Um beijo.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&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/5045942917482360817-5701878575667515339?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/5701878575667515339/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=5701878575667515339&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/5701878575667515339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/5701878575667515339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2010/10/carissimo-la-vai-tarde-nao-ouco-os-sons.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TMsqzCTIAEI/AAAAAAAABHM/sOJz8u2qrWk/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-8828091146306063604</id><published>2010-10-04T17:28:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-10-04T17:37:53.421-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Foto Google'/><title type='text'>Lembranças de outono</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TKo4oJydxlI/AAAAAAAABGw/1j7TGxQyuGc/s1600/cajueiro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TKo4oJydxlI/AAAAAAAABGw/1j7TGxQyuGc/s320/cajueiro.jpg" width="228" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;De minha varanda sinto o cheiro dos cajus e vejo o sol brincar por entre a folhagem amarelada. É outono. Todo o chão do quintal pinta-se das flores secas e o vento passa sacudindo-se do calor da tarde. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Também já me vi assim; Soltava meus cabelos para te fazer respirar de meu cheiro faceiro e sensual.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;As flores misturavam seus tons mesclados de vermelhos aos de meus lábios e eu sorria como se secretamente soubesse que tu me amavas. E elas ficavam a balançar as pétalas competindo com esse meu caminhar caboclo. Há dias que fico debaixo do cajueiro, distraída, com a lembrança de nossos olhares e depois, olho a beleza da tarde. Tu me foste muito especial. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E recordo que meus pensamentos de mulher inventavam mil modos de chamar tua atenção. Eu punha margaridas nos cabelos ou fazia-lhes cachos que se desmanchavam em tuas mãos. O céu azul abria-se em nuvens de algodão para ouvir meus gemidos nas horas desses afagos.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ah, os pássaros soltavam a garganta e tudo era música de amor!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E quando a lua aparecia como bola branca adivinhando beijos amantes, tu me fazia versos. Ainda lembro-me de um singelo poeminha de amor que mo fizeste. Fiquei suspensa no ar e me vi bailando tal estas folhas que estão prendendo de mistérios meus olhos. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Agora, meus olhos têm apenas essas lembranças para correr no vento de outono.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5045942917482360817-8828091146306063604?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/8828091146306063604/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=8828091146306063604&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/8828091146306063604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/8828091146306063604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2010/10/lembrancas-de-outono.html' title='Lembranças de outono'/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TKo4oJydxlI/AAAAAAAABGw/1j7TGxQyuGc/s72-c/cajueiro.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-6251040450952372442</id><published>2010-09-19T12:11:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-09-19T12:11:23.076-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Ainda</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TJYny-ZbzaI/AAAAAAAABF4/4WD_xYuXQvA/s1600/download.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TJYny-ZbzaI/AAAAAAAABF4/4WD_xYuXQvA/s400/download.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;Desisti de saber o porquê de tua partida.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;E cerrando-me os olhos, sonhei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;Com um rosto aberto de paixão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;Que o frescor da tarde e o hálito do vento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;Possam te fazer respirar de flores.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;Estas que nutrem as ilusões da vida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;E povoam os corações amantes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;De íntimo ardor profundo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;Ante essas mesmas flores me encontro,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;Colhendo ilusões de tua volta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5045942917482360817-6251040450952372442?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/6251040450952372442/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=6251040450952372442&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/6251040450952372442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/6251040450952372442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2010/09/ainda.html' title='Ainda'/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TJYny-ZbzaI/AAAAAAAABF4/4WD_xYuXQvA/s72-c/download.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-5179159381435726037</id><published>2010-08-25T21:52:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-08-25T21:52:06.967-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/THW6awAZZbI/AAAAAAAABEY/AS204CrXS5g/s1600/mulher+em+campo+de+papoilas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/THW6awAZZbI/AAAAAAAABEY/AS204CrXS5g/s320/mulher+em+campo+de+papoilas.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;Foto Google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000;"&gt;Caríssimo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="color: #990000;" /&gt;&lt;br style="color: #990000;" /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; A palavra amor vem-me como um desejo de desfrutar a beleza das flores, ou de chamar teu nome.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="color: #990000;" /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Na verdade, teu nome me vem sempre que me ponho a caminho da vida. O que ocorre é que para não me perder ao longo da estrada, calço-me de detalhes que aprendi contigo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="color: #990000;" /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Este amor, portanto, é motivo de alegria! Ele me serve para trazer a sensação gostosa de que o que vivemos foi maravilhoso e, que ainda após tua partida, guardo de ti, além do sabor dos beijos, sábias palavras. Sei que muitas vezes não te ouvi (tu foste paciente); até inventei desculpas para o que na época me pareceu o mais correto. Creio que não usava minha inteligência para cuidar de mim mesma, do que era minha cara – escrever textos infantis. Tu mo disseste que eu me sentiria bem, se o fizesse. Fiz e estou amando sentir-me criança outra vez.. Não há como fugir desse delicioso prazer de penetrar no mundo mágico da imaginação!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="color: #990000;" /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Quero te dizer que estou aqui. Nem tudo é simples, sabe! Mas tenho buscado agir conforme tu mo dirias – seguindo em frente e me achando uma vencedora... E hei de chegar a um lugar aonde eu não tenha medo de abrir os braços.; não tenha receio de querer me entregar ao amor mais uma vez. Amar é bom! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="color: #990000;" /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Pena que nós tivemos tão pouco tempo! Mas tivemos nossa história. Todo mundo tem uma história. E a nossa foi das mais lindas! Talvez eu conte dela a meus netos; talvez eu a guarde no fundo do baú de meu coração - para não se remexer; pois o que nela está escrito trata de um grande e louco amor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="color: #990000;" /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Mas essa história fica para outra carta...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5045942917482360817-5179159381435726037?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/5179159381435726037/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=5179159381435726037&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/5179159381435726037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/5179159381435726037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2010/08/foto-google-carissimo-palavra-amor-vem.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/THW6awAZZbI/AAAAAAAABEY/AS204CrXS5g/s72-c/mulher+em+campo+de+papoilas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-1702462822259033565</id><published>2010-08-23T21:19:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-08-23T21:27:33.086-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/THMP2K107aI/AAAAAAAABEI/bP-znYXaCbs/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/THMP2K107aI/AAAAAAAABEI/bP-znYXaCbs/s320/images.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;Caríssimo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="color: #cc0000;" /&gt;&lt;br style="color: #cc0000;" /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Aceitar a distância que nos separa está a cada dia mais difícil. Vem-me todas as horas a lembrança de teu corpo maduro, de teu gosto de fruto pronto a se colher... Ah, todos os dias ouço em meu coração teu nome_ tão perto de mim, tão no caminho de meus desejos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="color: #cc0000;" /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Sei que estou com um anseio infinito de te ver... de me encontrar em teus braços. Como não sonhar? (Tu me disseste que o impossível acontece...) Este anseio me arranca de um mormaço a que falto me entregar todos os dias... Talvez eu esteja entre o sonho e a realidade; invento um mundo onde posso te encontrar, mas é este mar imenso que nos separa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="color: #cc0000;" /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Estou em águas de enchentes. Sinto-me meio submersa entre o que vivemos e o presente _ o que ficou foram nossos momentos de amor. Deito meus olhos até onde os sonhos alcançam, até onde a esperança vive... Que mal há em sonhar?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="color: #cc0000;" /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Sonham os homens todos os dias. Esperam, mesmo os pequeninos, por um amor inesquecível. Vozes de crianças cantam a esperança; meninos e meninas brincam mesmo que esteja chovendo... Por que não posso guardar o que sinto por ti para sempre? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="color: #cc0000;" /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Quando olho para o tempo, é setembro. Ah, se me dessem o passado de volta, viveria tudo de novo! Sirvo-me, há quase um ano,&amp;nbsp; do que me lembro: Beijavas meus seios tais frutos bem deliciosos! E comias em vez de popa, de lábios morenos! E tudo, tudo tinha motivo para mais beijos!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="color: #cc0000;" /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; E não há dia em que não te sinta dentro de mim: do olhar a flores nos campos ou às aves que cruzam o firmamento. E tudo isso é amor. De qualquer que seja a realidade. De um coração de mulher ou da natureza. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="color: #cc0000;" /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; E sei... há um barco nalgum lugar esperando por nós... Depois de uma enseada, quando entardecer,&amp;nbsp; até que me acabem os dias... Nalgum lugar há de se juntar a alma minha à tua...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5045942917482360817-1702462822259033565?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/1702462822259033565/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=1702462822259033565&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/1702462822259033565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/1702462822259033565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2010/08/carissimo-aceitar-distancia-que-nos.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/THMP2K107aI/AAAAAAAABEI/bP-znYXaCbs/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-6740436059412475495</id><published>2010-08-01T14:03:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-08-01T14:15:54.381-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Como as folhas no chão</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TFWoP7KN9FI/AAAAAAAABDY/o26a3IECqGA/s1600/IMG3336A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TFWoP7KN9FI/AAAAAAAABDY/o26a3IECqGA/s400/IMG3336A.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #741b47;"&gt;Foi, sem dúvida, um acaso feliz, o de nos encontrarmos numa reunião de família. Sempre fico um pouco distanciada de todos, algo natural de minha parte – sou um tanto solitária! E é verdade que as discussões familiares deixam-me apreensiva. É que, no fundo, não sou de debates e nem um pouco simpática com aqueles que tratam os mais velhos com descaso. Coisa que aconteceu na ocasião. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="color: #741b47;" /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Então, nesta última reunião tive de me fazer ser ouvida, causando um silêncio momentâneo (bom para mim que pude expor calmamente minhas opiniões) e trazendo os olhares para minha pessoa. Sei que não te vi de imediato. Tu estavas com um irmão de minha mãe. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="color: #741b47;" /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Quando eu gesticulava numa euforia de meus argumentos acerca das heranças carinhosas que tenho de meus avós maternos (eu bem sabia do sabor disso no peito de meus irmãos) encontrei&amp;nbsp; a simpatia de teus olhos.&amp;nbsp; E, num lugar onde os homens têm peso nas palavras, tu eras o olhar mais atento de meu público. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="color: #741b47;" /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; De imediato não vi relação entre o que eu dizia e uma possível admiração de tua parte para com meu jeito espontâneo de ser. Devo ter lançado algum sorriso a ti; afinal, meu corpo nunca vira um homem demorar-se tanto na curva de meus seios. Meus pensamentos quase me fugiram da razão e foram provar um pouco das delícias de uma sedução. Felizmente, consegui harmonizar minhas palavras no debate em questão e meus sentidos interiores. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="color: #741b47;" /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Sensações femininas é um estado de poética. Toma conta da pele e se fixa nos poros. Digamos,assim, que vá formigando devagar, como se buscasse conhecer um por um os desejos mais íntimos da mulher. Uma vez, dentro do coração, a alma parece ter saído de uma clausura e estar em libertação; pois amar passa a ser função vital, e o único alimento são os carinhos do amado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="color: #741b47;" /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Eis como me encontrei em teus braços – sedenta de amor. Tua boca era fruta tropical das mais deliciosas que eu já provara. Sei que me entreguei sem reservas a teus beijos. Teus lábios me fizeram tremer de prazer. Eras o meu amor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="color: #741b47;" /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Lembro de teu olhar sedutor; porém me demoro aqui nas recordações de momentos em que te vi meigo e gentil. Tudo quanto é belo havia em teu olhar. E eu era a rosa de tua atenção. Quando caminhávamos, uma brisa suave vinha de teus olhos cair bem em meu andar. Eu me sentia querida, flor singela fresca e gostosa de admirar! Feliz, sim, senti-me feliz...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="color: #741b47;" /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Felizes são os acasos de amor! Haverá coisa melhor que amar? Alguém que sabe o que é ter sido amada pode perder-se em lágrimas diante das lembranças desse amor? Pergunto-me, baixinho, olhando o sol se pôr como muitos seres o devem estar fazendo também agora. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="color: #741b47;" /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Agora, aqui no Piauí, é uma tarde como tantas outras depois de tua partida. O vento quente varre as folhas secas, alguns pássaros catam alimento no chão e, dentro de casa, pessoas conversam de lembranças.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Sei que estou nostálgica porque os amores se vão. Afetos e folhas são muito parecidos. Aqueles caem um dia no esquecimento do corpo e, estas, as árvores depositam no chão na época da florada. E o vento varre tudo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="color: #741b47;" /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Mas algumas folhas demoram a amarelar!... Bem sei, bem sei...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="color: #741b47;" /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5045942917482360817-6740436059412475495?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/6740436059412475495/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=6740436059412475495&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/6740436059412475495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/6740436059412475495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2010/08/como-as-folhas-no-chao.html' title='Como as folhas no chão'/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TFWoP7KN9FI/AAAAAAAABDY/o26a3IECqGA/s72-c/IMG3336A.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-6800874877455294389</id><published>2010-07-27T21:28:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-27T22:13:53.186-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Como te amo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TE-EEmGMmiI/AAAAAAAABC4/O5jjjzA8h-4/s1600/%210-0%2B%21%2B.%2B111111.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 306px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TE-EEmGMmiI/AAAAAAAABC4/O5jjjzA8h-4/s400/%210-0%2B%21%2B.%2B111111.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498758884523547170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Foto Google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;    &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Caríssimo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Os elementos da noite&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Trazem o nome de meus pensamentos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dois seres maduros em um quarto de hotel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Por um lado vejo meu corpo, meus seios nus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;De outro, tua boa saciando meus desejos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;As delícias de minha carne ante tua língua&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Em que hora ardi mais em febre de prazer?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Talvez quando segurei meus cabelos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Quando gritei alto que te amava&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ou no momento que gozei contigo?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Não vês que a noite tem perfumes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ou que a chama da lua se acende para nós?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;E enquanto te chamo meu coração&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Confessa mais que te amo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;style type="text/css"&gt;.21cm }  --&gt;&lt;/style&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Meu beijo&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5045942917482360817-6800874877455294389?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/6800874877455294389/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=6800874877455294389&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/6800874877455294389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/6800874877455294389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2010/07/como-te-amo.html' title='Como te amo'/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TE-EEmGMmiI/AAAAAAAABC4/O5jjjzA8h-4/s72-c/%210-0%2B%21%2B.%2B111111.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-4077875158345972544</id><published>2010-06-13T13:55:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T13:55:51.348-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TBUNMNM4brI/AAAAAAAAA-c/2hhSB0YHHPY/s1600/Margaridas_Africanas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TBUNMNM4brI/AAAAAAAAA-c/2hhSB0YHHPY/s320/Margaridas_Africanas.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Foto Google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Caríssimo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Em minha saudade, vim conversar contigo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Há um vulcão de pensamentos em mim; tantas perguntas!&amp;nbsp; Há de romper um raiar de sol... E fico olhando este céu azul, pintado de aves para todo lado. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Há uma beleza no firmamento: pulsam-me os sabores, os cheiros das tintas da vida. No entanto, canto teu nome como uma reza que tenho secretamente. E chamo teu rosto para passear com meus passos; tua voz para conversar com minha alma; teus mistérios para me prender.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;A natureza se inflama de flores... &amp;nbsp;Embraseia –se de sol nas margaridas e o tom me convida a uma baile no amanhecer... Fico indecisa diante dos matizes... Minha boca encarnada de saudades da tua, quer sorrir no arco-íris do jardim silvestre que é o campo. Por aqui caminhamos de mãos dadas, trocamos nosso primeiro beijo e bem defronte do ipê amarelo, fizemos juras de amor_ eterno!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Um sabiá marcou encontro com as laranjeiras de meu quintal e vem todo dia numa seresta matinal! O som é melodia que me prende nesta saudade de ti!... Então, vim te dizer que...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;... Desenho risos no céu com a tinta do nome teu. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&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/5045942917482360817-4077875158345972544?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/4077875158345972544/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=4077875158345972544&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/4077875158345972544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/4077875158345972544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2010/06/foto-google-carissimo-em-minha-saudade.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TBUNMNM4brI/AAAAAAAAA-c/2hhSB0YHHPY/s72-c/Margaridas_Africanas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-2194370928132368932</id><published>2010-06-12T23:19:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-12T23:19:24.102-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TBQ_knRuDDI/AAAAAAAAA-U/c_4nP8kvbZg/s1600/060906150553amantes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="248" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TBQ_knRuDDI/AAAAAAAAA-U/c_4nP8kvbZg/s400/060906150553amantes.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;Caríssimo,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;Hoje a data pede que eu te escreva...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;E digo-te que devemos pedir aos céus:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;Um sol que nos aqueça nas horas de frio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;Um chão para as flores que perdem as pétalas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;Um bosque com árvores sempre vivas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;Um alguém que saiba dizer: Te amo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;Muito embora o sol não venha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;Mesmo que do chão se colha apenas erva daninha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;E que do bosque as árvores estejam velhas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;Pois o amor, este estranho amor, que vibra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;Que ascende nas noites debaixo dos luares&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;Que se espalma fibra a fibra na pele dos amantes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;Festeja o Dia dos Namorados na antiga frase:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;_Eu te amo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5045942917482360817-2194370928132368932?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/2194370928132368932/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=2194370928132368932&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/2194370928132368932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/2194370928132368932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2010/06/carissimo-hoje-data-pede-que-eu-te.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TBQ_knRuDDI/AAAAAAAAA-U/c_4nP8kvbZg/s72-c/060906150553amantes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-7344095106607640723</id><published>2010-06-06T10:42:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-06T18:22:29.139-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TAulT2OuupI/AAAAAAAAA70/vxPZdsRXFTI/s1600/amor+eterno.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TAulT2OuupI/AAAAAAAAA70/vxPZdsRXFTI/s320/amor+eterno.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Caríssimo,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Há meses não recebo notícias tuas, mas era o esperado; tu mo disseste nos olhos (quando nos despedimos&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;). Sei que pensas em mim mesmo assim, todavia por razões que são unicamente tuas, deixas-me assim sem uma linha escrita por tanto tempo.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nota que embora haja certeza de que fui amada, levanto a hipótese de esse sentimento não existir mais de tua parte. Muitas vezes (os amigos bem o sabem), estive com papel nas mãos e tantas palavras saudosas de ti nos lábios – curioso – e não te escrevi. Medo de eu ser agora apenas uma doce lembrança?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Imagens de nossos beijos, de nossos momentos juntos atingem-me noites e noites. Nessas horas, devo existir tão somente para os sentidos que me são aflorados. Repito teu nome baixinho, cheia de carinho... E as cobertas acolhem meu corpo em chamas. Sei da cor de teus olhos, do sabor de tua boca e do som de tua voz murmurando que me quer. Então, perco-me em sonhos entre o real e o que deseja meu corpo.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O estranho é este peito cheio de amor para ti. Ainda és o homem de minha vida. Para sempre...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Muitos beijos, carinhosos beijos de tua,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;flordecaju.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&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/5045942917482360817-7344095106607640723?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/7344095106607640723/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=7344095106607640723&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/7344095106607640723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/7344095106607640723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2010/06/carissimo-ha-meses-nao-recebo-noticias.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/TAulT2OuupI/AAAAAAAAA70/vxPZdsRXFTI/s72-c/amor+eterno.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-2398848322678438684</id><published>2010-05-20T22:02:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-21T19:12:33.760-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S_Xa1k64fQI/AAAAAAAAA7M/3t0Cc5QIoqo/s1600/noite%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S_Xa1k64fQI/AAAAAAAAA7M/3t0Cc5QIoqo/s320/noite%5B1%5D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Foto Google&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Caríssimo,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Vivo com a saudade tua&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;nem sei bem como é este viver&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;não importa&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;não há necessidade&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;de entender &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;vivo&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Por noites me considero forte&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;pinto palavras novas em meu coração&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;digo que te esqueci&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;então minhas mãos tateiam o lençol&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;frio solitário de amor &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;e sinto tua falta&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ponho os pensamentos no chão&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;minha camisola tem teu cheiro&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;todo o quarto fala de nossos gemidos&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;meu corpo tem tua pele&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;com vontade de te amar&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;outra vez&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Quem em dera&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;percorrer as noites&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;abrigada em teus braços&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;e os lábios encarnados&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;como os das rosas&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;de meu jardim&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mas só tenho a lua&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;na janela&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;batendo&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;amarela &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;em meus olhos&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #20124d;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5045942917482360817-2398848322678438684?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/2398848322678438684/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=2398848322678438684&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/2398848322678438684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/2398848322678438684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2010/05/carissimo-vivo-com-saudade-tua-nao-sei.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S_Xa1k64fQI/AAAAAAAAA7M/3t0Cc5QIoqo/s72-c/noite%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-572757942309127646</id><published>2010-03-18T20:57:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-18T20:59:11.394-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S6K9nwi4mKI/AAAAAAAAA0w/_3vnYT9UA2o/s1600-h/sol-e-lua.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S6K9nwi4mKI/AAAAAAAAA0w/_3vnYT9UA2o/s320/sol-e-lua.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Foto do Google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Caríssimo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Hoje tirei a tarde para ficar em casa. Sentei-me à mesa e fiquei olhando por um bom tempo as flores no vaso que eu colhera com tanto carinho de manhã cedinho... de uns tons amarelos elas representavam uma alegria e uma ausência dentro de mim. Embora eu me achasse nua de notícias tuas, habitava em mim um sentimento de quem se sabe ter sido amada... e de ter vivido belos instantes de ternura. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Depois, fui até uma vitrola antiga que guardo num lugar reservado na sala,como lembrança à memória de meu pai, e coloquei um disco de Roberto Carlos; o som da música “Detalhes” encheu o ambiente. Ah, meu querido, então me derramei em lágrimas! Tantos sabores dentro de mim; tua boca, teu cheiro, tua voz com esse sotaque tão diferente deste meu jeito brejeiro. Como eu adorava ficar a ti ouvir!... Tua sabedoria me encantava!... Lembras de meus olhos em ti, sorrindo com deslumbramento de tuas palavras?... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Mas eu não sou de ficar horas plantada remoendo minhas dores... Ergui-me do sofá e caminhei pela mata perto de casa. Era já a chegada da noite: os primeiros sons do campo me saudaram como se soubessem que eu precisava de um alento, de um sorriso. A noite perdeu seu manto negro ao receber uma cascata de estrelas. Não parecesse satisfeita, ela fez uma lua brindar meus olhos... Não pude resistir!.. Arrebentei-me de emoções!... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Quis, naquele instante, me vestir de princesa e correr a ti!...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Será que os momentos felizes são assim tão fugitivos como essa lua que caminha de um lado a outro do céu?... E por que ela se vai e volta sempre? Ainda sou jovem dentro de mim!... Quero te encontrar mais uma vez!... Há tantos luares que ainda podemos ver!...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;E fico aqui... te escrevendo... suspirando... enquanto a lua vai andando, andando...&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5045942917482360817-572757942309127646?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/572757942309127646/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=572757942309127646&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/572757942309127646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/572757942309127646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2010/03/carissimo-hoje-tirei-tarde-para-ficar.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S6K9nwi4mKI/AAAAAAAAA0w/_3vnYT9UA2o/s72-c/sol-e-lua.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-1928394259909636896</id><published>2010-02-16T10:24:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T11:06:29.597-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S3qcPYGXi-I/AAAAAAAAAyw/_jXRGzHAgXM/s1600-h/JB-+Amor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S3qcPYGXi-I/AAAAAAAAAyw/_jXRGzHAgXM/s320/JB-+Amor.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Foto Google&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Caríssimo,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Hoje acordei pensando em ti&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Então esqueci as censuras de minha razão&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Minha pele é toda sensação física&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Até o ar morno da manhã tem aroma de amor&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;A neblina que envolve as plantas é lençol de seda&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Debaixo do qual as flores amaram envolvidas pela lua&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Agora nesta aurora, tua imagem vem-me fascinante ao colo&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Teus lábios estão a mordiscar-me numa carícia louca&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Neste meu mundo febril dos desejos tu és a essência&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Reconheço estar no cio assim a gemer de vontades&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Meus seios derramam-se de sabores com o sangue a ferver por teu amor&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Olhando o céu, há uma correspondência entre nós sem explicação&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Minhas sensações eróticas são transmitidas a ti por pensamentos&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Não nos preocupamos em analisar os porquês&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Apenas estamos em fogo neste fósforo aceso pela poética&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nossas palavras sugerem um encontro clandestino&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sou toda coxas toda beijos plena de sentidos&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E bocas passeiam-me no ventre e dedos conhecem-me o âmago&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ondas sobem-me ao peito águas molham-me o interior&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Em horas assim, soluçam-me os olhos de um prazer com gemidos&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Enquanto imploro ao vento que leve estas palavras a ti&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Que corte o firmamento cantando desta minha alma em flor...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&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/5045942917482360817-1928394259909636896?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/1928394259909636896/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=1928394259909636896&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/1928394259909636896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/1928394259909636896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2010/02/carissimo-hoje-acordei-pensando-em-ti.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S3qcPYGXi-I/AAAAAAAAAyw/_jXRGzHAgXM/s72-c/JB-+Amor.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-5678672354835709763</id><published>2010-02-08T19:56:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-02-08T19:56:06.892-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S3CWVri63fI/AAAAAAAAAyY/0vWL8o-sN7s/s1600-h/IMG0860A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S3CWVri63fI/AAAAAAAAAyY/0vWL8o-sN7s/s400/IMG0860A.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Caríssimo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Tomo a lira do vento que assobia nos galhos das árvores&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;E colho dos segredos dos pássaros das folhas secas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Suspensa, num balanço, sonho com asas multicores&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Montanhas altas densas florestas um jardim de flores&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Deixo meu pensamento livre ao ocaso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Embaixo os morros as matas as correntezas dos rios.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Agitam-me n’alma teu rosto ainda na lembrança&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Um afago em meus cabelos um sussurro noturno.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Assim batendo no coração assim se estendendo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Em que meus olhos somente veem tua figura me abraçando.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Falta-me o ar aperta-me o peito a lágrima desce&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;E perde-se no vento; não fosse tua despedida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Simul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;ria ser gota de orvalho...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&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/5045942917482360817-5678672354835709763?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/5678672354835709763/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=5678672354835709763&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/5678672354835709763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/5678672354835709763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2010/02/carissimo-tomo-lira-do-vento-que.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S3CWVri63fI/AAAAAAAAAyY/0vWL8o-sN7s/s72-c/IMG0860A.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-3285360534658662586</id><published>2010-01-31T19:33:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-01-31T19:33:39.424-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S2YE9Z4lUzI/AAAAAAAAAx4/A4sYUeNAIhg/s1600-h/1590338.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S2YE9Z4lUzI/AAAAAAAAAx4/A4sYUeNAIhg/s320/1590338.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;Foto Google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Não sei dizer como minha história começou... Nossa história!... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Lembro-me das palavras... &amp;nbsp;Corria um vento morno por entre as árvores, e tua voz misturando-se com as linhas de teu corpo em meus olhos... O movimento de tua boca a prender-me os desejos... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Nus, descalços, meu corpo palpitando junto ao teu, festejamos nossos sonhos de cenas exóticas de paixão...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;A água em nossa pele e eu diante do contorno viril de teu tórax... Desci minhas mãos na tua epiderme, sorvi-a beijo a beijo navegando nos caminhos fecundos de teu peito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;E tu, meu amado, a me sussurrar: “Quero teu corpo! Eu sou a água da tua sede... Sacia-te de mim!...”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Gentis teus dedos em minhas pernas, e todas as curvas de meu corpo em realismos de prazeres... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Alta noite, eu bêbada de tua fragrância masculina, em completo torpor de puro deleite, mas ardente e vaporosa; pedi-te outro sol, outra lua, novas paragens de amor. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Ah, nossa história veio de mansinho... numa ânsia de amar!... Fecundou em nossos pensamentos, escaldou-nos os sonhos por noites e noites em que ficávamos a imaginar como seria quando nos encontrássemos!... Uníamo-nos em palavras, em versos saídos do peito... Dependuramos nossos desejos numa linda imaginação... Eu era tua amada secreta e tu meu eterno amante!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Mas explica-me! Em que se baseou o teu amor? Fico aqui gritando dentro de minh’alma, chorando num secreto silêncio... E não sei o porquê de teu adeus!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Somente a lua comigo na noite, neste deserto de tua ausência... E meus olhos que já viram os teus por mim enamorados... Em febre de lágrimas... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&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/5045942917482360817-3285360534658662586?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/3285360534658662586/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=3285360534658662586&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/3285360534658662586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/3285360534658662586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2010/01/google-nao-sei-dizer-como-minha.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S2YE9Z4lUzI/AAAAAAAAAx4/A4sYUeNAIhg/s72-c/1590338.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-5075683617977135461</id><published>2010-01-29T20:12:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-01-30T05:50:48.518-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S2NrAB5vsQI/AAAAAAAAAxI/g7zLS7NhyC4/s1600/IMG2618A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S2NrAB5vsQI/AAAAAAAAAxI/g7zLS7NhyC4/s200/IMG2618A.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Caríssimo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;"&gt;Histórias, histórias... &amp;nbsp;Cruzam os dias...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;"&gt;E mocinhas erguem seus mantos ao vento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;"&gt;Como de costume, aos domingos entram na igrejinha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;"&gt;Desfilam na pracinha em seus vestidos bordados&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;"&gt;Casas recebem visitas em conversas do tempo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;"&gt;Meninos correm na rua como ervas do campo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;"&gt;Dourado um crepúsculo despeja o sol por entre as árvores&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;"&gt;Longe, bem longe uma mulher sentada na tarde&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;"&gt;Ora descansa os olhos nas flores do chão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;"&gt;Ora copiosa suspira numa melancolia de amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;"&gt;Ainda não anoiteceu e um leve sopro de calor do dia &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;"&gt;Habita no silêncio do coração dela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;"&gt;Passam algumas formigas em suas siluetas alinhadas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;"&gt;Indiferentes ao pálido rosto distanciado do foco da cidade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;"&gt;É apenas um retrato já envelhecido&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;"&gt;Uma espécie de saudade toma conta de meus olhos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;"&gt;E depois mais nada. Guardo a imagem num segredo.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5045942917482360817-5075683617977135461?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/5075683617977135461/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=5075683617977135461&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/5075683617977135461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/5075683617977135461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2010/01/solidao-solidao.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S2NrAB5vsQI/AAAAAAAAAxI/g7zLS7NhyC4/s72-c/IMG2618A.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-6360942035277106449</id><published>2010-01-28T13:24:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T13:24:19.890-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S2G5jHw1b5I/AAAAAAAAAww/DRA0ahKy0Ik/s1600-h/DSC05670.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S2G5jHw1b5I/AAAAAAAAAww/DRA0ahKy0Ik/s320/DSC05670.JPG" width="257" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Fiz a ti, meu amor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Versinhos de amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Cheios de segredos meus olhos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Pousam nos teus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Riem, escondem-se, sugerem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Fazem um tlic tlac em minhas emoções&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;E num delicado fulgor são minhas expressões&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;De longe ouvem o rumor de teus passos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;E mil coisas começam a imaginar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Um pouco de calor, então, caminha-me no corpo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Quero correr pela rua, jogar-me em teus braços&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;E meu coração a dizer que sim enamorado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Seresteiros emolduram a pracinha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Embaralham-me as emoções na música&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;E eu já em teus braços esquecendo-me dos olhos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Enquanto ganho um longo beijo de amor &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&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/5045942917482360817-6360942035277106449?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/6360942035277106449/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=6360942035277106449&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/6360942035277106449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/6360942035277106449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2010/01/fiz-ti-meu-amor.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S2G5jHw1b5I/AAAAAAAAAww/DRA0ahKy0Ik/s72-c/DSC05670.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-62154165018267744</id><published>2010-01-26T17:39:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-01-26T17:39:00.537-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S19Sm-SLnAI/AAAAAAAAAwI/ntqGvWZeV0o/s1600-h/IMG2584A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S19Sm-SLnAI/AAAAAAAAAwI/ntqGvWZeV0o/s320/IMG2584A.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e06666;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e06666;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Caríssimo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e06666;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Tenho pensado tanto em ti!...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e06666;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;... Então construo um mundo dentro de mim...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e06666;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;E um aroma cálido da tarde sobe em meu corpo, baila em meus olhos e recordo de ti. “Não devo pensar nesse amor? Mas olha! meu coração sabe teu nome, e o endereço de teu sabor!”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e06666;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Chegam-me flores nas mãos do dia toda manhã!... Sirvo-me do calor do sol dentro de meus sonhos... Tomo banho nas águas da chuva que caiu há pouco e não mato esse calor!... Nas beiras do riacho que construí em minha imaginação moram flores que se abrem a cada lembrança de um sorriso teu... E misturo tudo num azul do céu: “Quero banhar no riacho que sangrou durante a enxurrada e colher das flores que parecem sóis diante do dormir do dia!...”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e06666;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Ainda mais longe me corre a realidade... Não a quero perto de mim... Digo baixinho, num sussurro, a meu coração que contigo guardo meus momentos mais felizes!... E na tarde, o vento investiga: “Foram tão bons os momentos de amor?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e06666;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;E repito como se falasse a ti: “Pode mudar o ritmo do vento; desabrochar e caírem-se as flores; o sol esquecer-se de aquecer minha janela... Que teu aroma sempre viverá em meu corpo!”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e06666;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;E sabe, se eu soubesse fazer um poeminha... Eu o enviaria a ti!... Mas não!... Então, fico construindo esse meu mundo dentro de mim...&amp;nbsp; Enquanto a noite se achega aqui, Meu amor!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&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/5045942917482360817-62154165018267744?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/62154165018267744/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=62154165018267744&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/62154165018267744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/62154165018267744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2010/01/carissimo-tenho-pensado-tanto-em-ti.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S19Sm-SLnAI/AAAAAAAAAwI/ntqGvWZeV0o/s72-c/IMG2584A.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-8333676374298238669</id><published>2010-01-24T08:42:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T08:42:46.951-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Saudades</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S1wxVUOEVdI/AAAAAAAAAv4/24K9aYmOlSM/s1600-h/foto1g.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S1wxVUOEVdI/AAAAAAAAAv4/24K9aYmOlSM/s320/foto1g.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Praça Irmãos Dantas- Piracuruca&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Caríssimo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;A rua florida parece ter teu perfume&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Toda minha pele o sente nesta tarde de verão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;E sinto-te tão profundamente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Há em cada canto da rua um pouco de ti&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Não vês o quanto te chamo, meu amor?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Sei que há um frescor no vento a brincar nas árvores&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Vejo nas calçadas os risos amigos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Meninos brincando de pica-esconde&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;E tanta, tanta vida no caminho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Mas pouso meu coração em teus braços e não sinto teu calor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;E fico triste, porque não sei onde estás&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;A cada passo novo na rua, olho com vontade de te encontrar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;E fico com cuidado no sol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Pois ele se vai e sempre espero seu retorno&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Que me traga notícias de ti&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Já me chegam as horas da lua&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Sem estranheza, numa visita tão conhecida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Logo mais estarei pousando meu corpo no travesseiro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;E sei que meu mundo será de pensamentos em ti.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&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/5045942917482360817-8333676374298238669?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/8333676374298238669/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=8333676374298238669&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/8333676374298238669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/8333676374298238669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2010/01/saudades.html' title='Saudades'/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S1wxVUOEVdI/AAAAAAAAAv4/24K9aYmOlSM/s72-c/foto1g.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-922123833717775531</id><published>2010-01-21T17:41:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T19:23:37.698-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S1i7sdwdwxI/AAAAAAAAAuw/fTfqw_gXXtE/s1600-h/IMG0938A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S1i7sdwdwxI/AAAAAAAAAuw/fTfqw_gXXtE/s400/IMG0938A.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #274e13;"&gt;Caríssimo, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #274e13;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #274e13;"&gt;Entre os caminhos que percorro, há sempre aquela vereda a me falar de ti em tons de uma poesia ao amor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #274e13;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mas sei que muitas vezes não compreendo por que minha alma te chama na noite... Sou uma mulher coberta de paixão por ti e mergulho em meus lençóis presa em tua imagem... Tento me separar das lembranças de nossos beijos, de tua voz falando baixinho em meus ouvidos... E fico a construir um mundo, nosso, dentro de mim: “Nossa morada é bem ali, na curva do vento em noites de luar... Vem, vamos escrever nossa história de amor!”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-weight: bold;"&gt;E por morar nos versos dum mundo de sonhos, a mulher em mim debruça-se nas folhas desse livro escrito durante nossos momentos. Associo carícias, cumplicidades de olhares da hora da partida... E assim quando leio essas horas dentro de meu coração, aparece-me o desenho vivo de nós... amando!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-weight: bold;"&gt;São sons de um homem e uma mulher, completos, na entrega do amor... São luzes dançando em nosso corpo quando o prazer nos vinha em imensuráveis orgasmos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-weight: bold;"&gt;E meus passos estão querendo ir a ti... Há dias de chuva; dias de um sol que me aquece num céu azul. Há flores que desabrocham; outras se fecham ao entardecer... &amp;nbsp;Não sentes uma tristeza que me invade sem notícias tuas?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ó querido meu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #274e13;"&gt;Onde mora tua face neste instante?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #274e13;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #274e13;"&gt;Rabisca umas linhas e me conta de ti...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #274e13;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #274e13;"&gt;Antes que a vida me tire as flores&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #274e13;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #274e13;"&gt;(E meus passos acordem em espinhos...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #274e13;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-weight: bold;"&gt;A ti, que amo tanto... tanto...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&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/5045942917482360817-922123833717775531?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/922123833717775531/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=922123833717775531&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/922123833717775531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/922123833717775531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2010/01/carissimo-entre-os-caminhos-que.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S1i7sdwdwxI/AAAAAAAAAuw/fTfqw_gXXtE/s72-c/IMG0938A.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-8601409425332880906</id><published>2010-01-10T10:57:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T19:49:16.176-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S0ncV2ebHYI/AAAAAAAAAqk/gcKO4ue8Cdw/s1600-h/Caspar+David+Friedrich+-+Mulher+%C3%A0+Janela,+1822.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S0ncV2ebHYI/AAAAAAAAAqk/gcKO4ue8Cdw/s320/Caspar+David+Friedrich+-+Mulher+%C3%A0+Janela,+1822.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: olive; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color: olive; font-size: 7.5pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Caspar David Friedrich - Mulher à Janela, 1822&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Caríssimo, &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Estou sentada à cadeira, olhos postos no infinito, com aquele meu ar de quem se sabe ter sido amada. O dia começou assim, com esta vontade de te enviar umas linhas, a despeito da distância que nos separa. Cheguei a pensar que não conseguiria olhar mais o mar sem chorar, pois as horas vazias me são um tormento; todavia os dias amanhecem e como tu sabes minhas lágrimas não são donas de minha vontade de viver. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Confesso que estou triste. Cheguei a arrumar minhas malas, pensei em ir ao interior, mas o sol insistiu em entrar-me pela janela hoje de manhã. Há uma claridade viva no lençol do céu descortinando este meu peito sofrido. Foram tantos momentos belos passados contigo, que embora sinta tua falta, há um calor em meu coração. Com certeza há uma vida lá fora desse meu mundo. Tu mo disseste na despedida. Tinhas razão. Meus olhos reclamam por flores debaixo da janela. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Uma loucura nosso amor! Fomos insaciavelmente amantes. Havia mundos nos separando e tu me vieste aqui com esse teu jeito romântico. E se falei em flores nas linhas acima é porque tu sabendo de minha paixão por elas sempre me enviavas uma, nos emoticons, em nossas conversas no MSN. Estou me distraindo falando em flores quando na verdade não posso esquecer-me de tua coragem de atravessar o Atlântico para vir ter comigo. Foi a maior declaração de amor que já recebi. Então nossos momentos deviam ter sido mesmo o que foram: loucos instantes de amor!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Estou certa de que os dias terão novamente seus encantos. O verde da mata, choveu ontem, parece-me com o tom dum lápis de cores que na infância eu sonhava ser a cor da esperança. Em cima do muro um gato passeia faceiro; os pássaros gorjeiam no cajueiro; no chão do quintal de minha casa formigas perdem-se no capinzal. Olho. Admiro a vida. Meu coração compreende que esta saudade tua não vai me impedir de seguir. Tu me és dentro d’alma o amor de minha vida. E se amo, só posso prosseguir minha caminhada. O ocaso virá, e estarei debruçada nesta janela ouvindo os cantos da noite. Talvez quando a lua acender seu candeeiro, eu dance meus olhos nas estrelas. Talvez eu te seja uma estrela distante, mas correndo dentro de teu coração. Talvez nos vejamos novamente um dia. Talvez. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Só não quero te ser uma lembrança melancólica. Meu peito tem tanta certeza de que nunca te esquecerei que sorrio num suspiro das recordações de nossos momentos. Beijamo-nos. Fizemos amor na madrugada. Conversamos baixinho segredando nossas vontades. Dentro de nosso mundo secreto no quarto inclinamos as horas do dia enquanto nos amávamos. Os sabores de nossos orgasmos ainda me vêm. Feminina eu me senti em teus braços. Mulher inteira. Amada. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Fico calada agora. Noto meu corpo pedindo teus beijos. A respiração já me acelera. Com a ponta dos dedos toco uma lágrima que desce mansa. Não te aflijas! Ela vem-me com um sorriso no coração. Esta emoção de ter estado contigo me seguirá dançando assim mesmo no corpo, gosto dela. Tantos olhares trocamos que te vejo aqui comigo! E sei que não vais embora de meu ser. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mas tenho de fechar as linhas e calçar minhas sandálias rasteiras antes de pensar de ir pelo caminho. Tive a teu lado as horas mais belas na vida de uma mulher. Quero olhá-las e sentar na tarde da vida certa de que fui amada em teus braços. Tu estás dentro de mim. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Já me vou... sem um adeus... vou por aqui... antes que o dia me veja com um lenço nas mãos. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Meu beijo, o melhor. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&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/5045942917482360817-8601409425332880906?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/8601409425332880906/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=8601409425332880906&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/8601409425332880906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/8601409425332880906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2010/01/caspar-david-friedrich-mulher-janela.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S0ncV2ebHYI/AAAAAAAAAqk/gcKO4ue8Cdw/s72-c/Caspar+David+Friedrich+-+Mulher+%C3%A0+Janela,+1822.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-7549658928941172738</id><published>2009-12-30T20:09:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-12-30T20:09:26.297-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Carta de amor</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: auto;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Tahoma, Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/SzvcxVzuNCI/AAAAAAAAAoE/H1SLz6JaX0E/s1600-h/bosque.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/SzvcxVzuNCI/AAAAAAAAAoE/H1SLz6JaX0E/s320/bosque.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Meu amor,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Se durante esta vida não nos viram juntos as flores,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Não silencia a voz do vento no jardim;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Fala a elas que fomos amantes.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E se quiserem, posta em meu túmulo&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Uma rosa branca.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Deixa a marca de teus passos em minha vida&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Quando eu não mais estiver aqui.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Pede que os sinos toquem tristes&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;À minha passagem&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Como se chorasse a igrejinha.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ah, meu amado&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ora por nós que não vivemos&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Livres tão belo amor.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Pois numa suave tarde&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ouvindo o canto dos bem-te-vis,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O bosque que abrigou nossos segredos&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;É lá que vou passear nas horas longes de ti.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Enquanto te espero,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Num ambiente azul de paz,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Evita a loucura das paixões&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E te protege da nostalgia;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Porém enfeita as horas que nos separam;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Onde eu estiver saberei&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Que precisas continuar a viver.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sei do tom das flores&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E do calor de braços amados&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Debaixo do travesseiro.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mas não esqueces:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Não juras amor a outra;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Pois ainda quero&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Notar o sabor de teus beijos&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Além da vida.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&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/5045942917482360817-7549658928941172738?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/7549658928941172738/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=7549658928941172738&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/7549658928941172738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/7549658928941172738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2009/12/carta-de-amor.html' title='Carta de amor'/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/SzvcxVzuNCI/AAAAAAAAAoE/H1SLz6JaX0E/s72-c/bosque.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-352051983224904691</id><published>2009-12-23T19:51:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-12-23T19:59:38.295-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Solidão ao cair da noite</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/SzKe2mAjfaI/AAAAAAAAAms/FuC-mii4kgY/s1600-h/DSC00464.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/SzKe2mAjfaI/AAAAAAAAAms/FuC-mii4kgY/s320/DSC00464.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Meu amado,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O&amp;nbsp;sol de hoje deixou um rastro de tristeza na luz de meus olhos. É que chegara ao nascer dele, &amp;nbsp;a lembrança do calor de teus beijos dentro de mim; e julguei ao ver o sol dormir, serem teus lábios dizendo-me adeus...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Então, crepitou dentro de minh’alma uma vontade de estar contigo embriagando-me os pensamentos e estes davam mergulhos na luz de meu coração! E me vi novamente com meu corpo colado ao teu, amando-te na noite...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Há, desde o pano de fundo do céu até a cor negra de meus olhos, luzes brilhando na noite em que te escrevo. Vem-me uma sensação de rubor nas faces; de uma boca selada à minha e, chego a ouvir meu nome num suspiro das estrelas! Então, fico com os olhos afogueados pedindo que venhas me ver! Chego a sentir o gostinho de teu beijo tanto é meu desejo por ti!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Corre agora um vento fresco vindo das palmeiras. Lembro-me de nós conversando agarradinhos, segredando carinhos, palpitando de anseios a cada caminhar de nossas mãos em nosso corpo. Todos os sonhos que viajam por minha mente neste instante, dançam em minha pele que se arrepia (e não é do vento)... E minha epiderme sente-se viva chamando-te para uma noite de amor. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sou neste momento uma presença morena iluminada pela lua. Meus olhos têm o brilho de uma gata no escuro. Uma tormenta me vem ao corpo mensageiro de minhas vontades. Em meu ventre, um almejar de afagos desfolha-me o âmago querendo que eu seja hoje, mais uma vez, a dama de teus olhos e tua mulher diante do amor. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Estou te escrevendo como se pudesse acalmar meu corpo e meu coração. Sou parte da noite anunciando a solidão do sol. Trocam-se estrelas de lugar; viaja a lua por novas nuvens e fico aqui olhando os astros numa melancolia que me puxa o coração para o vazio. No silêncio, só meus pensamentos movendo-se com a lembrança de tua imagem. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Lá para as bandas do nascente rasga um trovão. É a noite chamando a vida que se renova sempre depois do pranto das nuvens. Talvez chova mais tarde e eu sinta ainda mais frio em meu corpo. E eu não encontro outra forma de sentir tua presença a me aquecer: preciso pôr nas palavras a tortura lírica de meu ser. Estou em transe poético! E como não gritar teu nome diante dessa tortura por teus carinhos?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Acredito que me amas. Assim, naufrago meus olhos na noite, enquanto aguardo ser salva por teus beijos!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&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/5045942917482360817-352051983224904691?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/352051983224904691/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=352051983224904691&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/352051983224904691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/352051983224904691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2009/12/solidao-ao-cair-da-noite.html' title='Solidão ao cair da noite'/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/SzKe2mAjfaI/AAAAAAAAAms/FuC-mii4kgY/s72-c/DSC00464.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-7794698863993614719</id><published>2009-12-07T14:49:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-12-07T14:49:16.476-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/Sx0_uKkfkuI/AAAAAAAAAls/er7h7jjNeyk/s1600-h/BXK17007_rosa-vermelha_meu-amor_brasil_sp_jundiai_serra-do-japi_p.prd17007_by-bbelle800.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/Sx0_uKkfkuI/AAAAAAAAAls/er7h7jjNeyk/s320/BXK17007_rosa-vermelha_meu-amor_brasil_sp_jundiai_serra-do-japi_p.prd17007_by-bbelle800.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Amado,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tenho pensado tanto em ti! Olho meus dias e vejo-te ao meu lado, tamanha é a vontade de estar contigo!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E sei que este meu sentimento é para sempre!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mudam-se os aspectos da natureza... o céu de azul passa a cinza anunciando &amp;nbsp;que tristes são as horas longe de ti! E as rosas brotam,perdem as pétalas e acorda uma semente renovando a vida. Assim sigo... revigorando-me de ternura por ti, enquanto aguardo passarem-se os dias que nos separam !&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E cá estou... ouvindo nossa música, sentindo meu peito arrebentar de tanto te querer! Um meigo sorriso me vem d’alma sussurrando que tu és o homem de minha vida; que só teu olhar me afogueia o corpo!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Em minha pele corre teu cheiro; o sabor de teus lábios ainda está nos meus... e sei que em cada noite passada a teu lado foi o meu nome que teus lábios pediram. Nessas horas eu fui uma deusa, uma ninfa da beleza feminina. Foi contigo que eu soube o prazer de ser mulher amada. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Eu não sei disfarçar o quanto te quero! Te quero! Grita meu corpo em cada célula. Chego a visualizar teu caminhar de encontro a mim... e corro para ti! Ah! Minha boca deixa sair teu nome... amor!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tu, só tu conheces os segredos de meus desejos... E só tu me despertas assim... feminina mulher... gritando de prazer na hora de nosso amor!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Como posso dormir sem antes te dizer o quanto meus pensamentos são teus? Então lê minhas palavras em teu coração, pois elas são o fruto de meus sentimentos!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Um beijo. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&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/5045942917482360817-7794698863993614719?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/7794698863993614719/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=7794698863993614719&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/7794698863993614719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/7794698863993614719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2009/12/amado-tenho-pensado-tanto-em-ti-olho.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/Sx0_uKkfkuI/AAAAAAAAAls/er7h7jjNeyk/s72-c/BXK17007_rosa-vermelha_meu-amor_brasil_sp_jundiai_serra-do-japi_p.prd17007_by-bbelle800.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-8856619499913181248</id><published>2009-12-04T18:38:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-12-04T18:41:07.637-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Entre a razão e o coração</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/SxmBFmsGP6I/AAAAAAAAAkk/EgT8Pz3EU7c/s1600-h/rosas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/SxmBFmsGP6I/AAAAAAAAAkk/EgT8Pz3EU7c/s320/rosas.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 20px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 20px; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e06666;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;De um jardim, em uma noite solitária sem lua, nem estrelas...&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e06666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 20px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 20px; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 20px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 20px; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e06666;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; Amado (amo, sim!), &amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e06666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 20px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 20px; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 20px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 20px; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e06666;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;É tarde! É muito tarde! Diz minha razão a meu coração. Mas um perfume longínquo vem me lembrar das vezes em que fizemos amor; de tuas palavras me falando ternamente; até de teus conselhos... &amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 20px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 20px; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e06666;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ó meu amor! Que saudade infinda me trazem as horas caladas da noite! Os minutos do relógio em sutis passadas remexem meu ser... cheiro dos sorvetes; sons de onomatopéias em meus ouvidos; minha alma tremendo ao toque de tuas mãos... Não me abandones... Não me deixes nessa solidão... num amor sem rumo!... &amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 20px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 20px; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e06666;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Bem me avisou minha razão para eu não entregar meu coração. Tola! Tola! Sinto agora o amor em cada célula, a correr em mim como o sangue das veias... E viaja em todos os caminhos de meu corpo sussurrando teu nome...&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 20px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 20px; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e06666;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Não vês que meus versos são teus? Que sou tua Maria? Não te lembras de minha carta cheia de sedução na qual eu me declaro a ti? Corre os pensamentos na tua memória e faze em flip... flop... flap... um sugestivo som de uma flor a ti chamar na noite...&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 20px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 20px; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e06666;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Oh! Não deixes minha razão vencer! Dize a mim que não é tarde. “Ainda sou tua Maria.” Abre em tua casa a janela do quarto e sente o perfume de minhas pétalas...! Estou aqui a ti esperar...&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e06666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 20px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 20px; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 20px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 20px; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e06666;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; Beijo... &amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e06666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 20px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 20px; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 20px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 20px; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e06666;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;P.S. Deixei na mensagem instantânea a mesma flor de sempre, com aquele coraçãozinho... &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e06666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 20px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 20px; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5045942917482360817-8856619499913181248?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/8856619499913181248/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=8856619499913181248&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/8856619499913181248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/8856619499913181248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2009/12/entre-razao-e-o-coracao.html' title='Entre a razão e o coração'/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/SxmBFmsGP6I/AAAAAAAAAkk/EgT8Pz3EU7c/s72-c/rosas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-4623795792690821859</id><published>2009-11-05T13:41:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T13:41:48.398-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Cartinha simples</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/SvMAAxuu3JI/AAAAAAAAAfM/W1JprF88LzY/s1600-h/IMG1009A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/SvMAAxuu3JI/AAAAAAAAAfM/W1JprF88LzY/s320/IMG1009A.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #231f20; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Oi amor&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Lindo dia, não é?&amp;nbsp; Como vai teu domingo? Deste lado do céu, o sol abriu seus raios, graças!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Escrevo-te hoje para contar que passei a semana inteira, pensando em ti. Isso não é surpresa! Tens conhecimento de meu querer, desde o instante em que nos fitamos em palavras de poemas. &amp;nbsp;Lembras? Ficamos versos inteiros namorando numa serenata de entrelinhas embebidas de perguntas. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tantas interrogações nos fizemos antes de nos estreitar o abraço poético de nossos desejos!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E foi tão belo! Uma alma unida à outra alma, existindo alheias ao mundo. Almas sonhadoras querendo somente a felicidade. Serenas, cultivando o hálito do amor. Inspiradas no mais puro sentimento divino... Sem culto ao corpo, sem luxúrias de gritos ao mundo. Silenciosas almas amantes da poesia. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E se a dor (inimiga desse sentir) vinha ter conosco... Ah! mais nos amparava&amp;nbsp; o escrever do verso, nosso confidente de segredos, que em olhar atento, longe dos homens, era nosso mais íntimo pensamento. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Celebro hoje o dia, num altar à poesia, em que me fiz menina para sonhar amar ainda, uma vez mais... &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;...Vibrando a alma em prol da vida!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&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/5045942917482360817-4623795792690821859?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/4623795792690821859/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=4623795792690821859&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/4623795792690821859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/4623795792690821859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2009/11/cartinha-simples.html' title='Cartinha simples'/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/SvMAAxuu3JI/AAAAAAAAAfM/W1JprF88LzY/s72-c/IMG1009A.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-7429156193379365176</id><published>2009-10-29T22:01:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-29T22:05:27.912-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/Suo6gcMiQEI/AAAAAAAAAd0/EZBCxczowMc/s1600-h/chorando.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/Suo6gcMiQEI/AAAAAAAAAd0/EZBCxczowMc/s320/chorando.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Amor,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Custo a dormir. Reviram-me nas lembranças teus olhos marejados em nossa última conversa. E bem sei por que os guardei para mim! Estão aqui olhando para meu coração que ainda sofre com nosso adeus. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;A culpa foi minha. Não devia ter falado contigo quando o demônio do ciúme me rondava nas palavras. Eu devia ter banido de minha boca as palavras cortantes que me saíam de um coração que não era meu. Não pode ter sido meu íntimo que te falou daquele jeito... &amp;nbsp;todo meu ser te ama!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Eu sempre reajo apedrejando sem olhar o que ‘quebro’ quando me sinto ameaçada. Eu não poderia imaginar que tu apenas conversavas com uma velha amiga de infância. Vocês riam tão prazerosamente! E me senti roubada de tua felicidade...”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Eu estou nos olhando no dia de nosso primeiro encontro! Lembras? Eu estava selecionando um filme na locadora para um fim de semana prolongado. Escolhemos o mesmo. Fiquei curiosa por um homem gostar de filmes românticos antigos. A primeira coisa que fiz foi indagar teu nome. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Depois disso, o céu se abriu para mim... e até a data em que o fiz se partir, o sol de teus olhos iluminou meus dias. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Lavo meus olhos avermelhados de chorar duma dor profunda em meu coração. Eu mesma causei esta ferida em mim. Estou sagrando por dentro. A água fria da torneira não vai aliviar este sofrimento. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Não tenho palavras mansas para acalmar o que eu te disse na hora do ciúme. Minha boca tem um sabor amargo. E sei que a culpa foi deste coração que não soube confiar em ti. Estou morta por dentro. Morta sem a luz de teus olhos. Como se eles fossem a luz de minha vida. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;E tu sabes o que quero com esta carta... Estou pedindo uma conversa serena com nosso coração. Não posso deixar nosso amor morrer... Pois ainda sinto acesa uma chama em nossos olhos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&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/5045942917482360817-7429156193379365176?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/7429156193379365176/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=7429156193379365176&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/7429156193379365176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/7429156193379365176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2009/10/amor-custo-dormir.html' title=''/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/Suo6gcMiQEI/AAAAAAAAAd0/EZBCxczowMc/s72-c/chorando.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-5159719337970546475</id><published>2009-10-27T07:37:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T07:51:59.364-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Ah, como te amo!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/SubM7PGI_kI/AAAAAAAAAc0/LoKn4BRsix4/s1600-h/DSC00764.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/SubM7PGI_kI/AAAAAAAAAc0/LoKn4BRsix4/s320/DSC00764.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Hoje eu me peguei pensando em ti... &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Desenhei teu rosto na luz de meus olhos e sem perceber sentei-me contigo naquele banco da pracinha em que nos beijamos escondidos da lua. Ouvi tua voz na canção do dia por entre as folhas que dançavam em alegretto. Banhei-me na cor de tua pele quando os raios do sol brincaram nas pétalas das flores que desabrochavam.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E se me perguntarem, nem sei por que te amo...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Só posso argumentar que tuas palavras me seguem nas horas do dia.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sabe daquela vez em que desejei um sorvete de goiaba com doce de leite? Ainda lembro teu sorriso meigo dizendo-me que era coisa de criança... E, depois, quem mais tomou do sorvete?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;É... As tuas palavras habitam dentro de mim e dividem o espaço de meu coração com as emoções do dia que nasce...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;... Numa simples manhã em que os sabores da mata me falam de ternura e&amp;nbsp; cochicham que amar é preciso...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mas que fazer se sonhei contigo ontem quando a noite chegou seduzindo minha razão e me fez dizer antes de dormir que te amo? Como eu podia comprar uma briga com minha emoção e ponderar que tu estavas apenas em meus pensamentos? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tenho certeza que isso é amor... (Riem meus olhos satisfeitos com essa descoberta!) &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E não vejo a hora de estar outra vez contigo... Nem que o seja em sonhos!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&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/5045942917482360817-5159719337970546475?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/5159719337970546475/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=5159719337970546475&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/5159719337970546475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/5159719337970546475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2009/10/ah-como-te-amo.html' title='Ah, como te amo!'/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/SubM7PGI_kI/AAAAAAAAAc0/LoKn4BRsix4/s72-c/DSC00764.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-7458129540856319153</id><published>2009-10-19T15:31:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T15:47:17.368-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Despedida</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/Sty0AnK4OxI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/6hO2rWpwOYM/s1600-h/C%C3%B3pia+de+IMG1602A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/Sty0AnK4OxI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/6hO2rWpwOYM/s400/C%C3%B3pia+de+IMG1602A.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394384376290622226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Num quarto, em uma noite solitária... De dias sem você!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Neste sábado notei que você fugia de mim. Talvez com receio de me ouvir. Creio que nosso amor chegou ao fim. Sabe? As batidas de meu coração agora são normais quando o vejo. Meus lábios ao serem tocados por você sentem uma ternura de amigo, um leve roçar de carinho. Se for certo que ao acabar o amor, fica uma amizade; eu me encontro assim - como uma velha amiga que conhece o sabor de seu beijo...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Percebeu o tratamento? Antes era “tu”, pessoa após o “eu”. Hoje já não existe o “nós”... Em minha vida, não há “entre nós”! Agora quando saio de casa e não falo de você, percebo um olhar indagador em nossos amigos... Mas são discretos e nada comentam... Não me faça perguntas... Não sei as respostas... Aconteceu!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Há um amor novo em meu coração? Olha! Durante esse mês, houve algumas pausas entre nós; raras vezes nos falamos; nossos silêncios tornaram-se mais prolongados! Aquele livro, que em que guardo os versos de nosso amor... Continua lá na gaveta do criado-mudo! É um sinal de que você foi importante em minha vida... Só posso dizer que o relógio do amor continuou a bater e você não me ouviu quando as cordas tocaram e disseram que eu estava muito só, por noites...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Revelo-me aqui a você. Não há amor que ignorado resista a esse mundo de guerra. Deixou-me frente a esse bombardeio gigante de sonhos meus... De meus anseios enquanto mulher! De mim, digo que o amei muito! Desci ao fundo da alma e ela vibrou em seus braços; desci mais ainda e fui menina quando gemi enlouquecida de prazer ao nos amarmos. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Não quero ir adiante e falar de meus anseios... Como uma flor posta à janela no dia dos namorados e que aguarda um beijo... Ou das vezes que quis ir ao cinema e você sempre ocupado... Tomei aquele sorvete sozinha... Sentei no banco da praça e lá defendi que amor é estar juntos e não só beijos entre corpos!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Assim me vou...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;  &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nem sempre o amor é eterno (Lembra? Você o dizia! Acertou!). Deixe-me acrescentar que mulher é um ser curioso... Eu vi a vida sorrir em versos!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tum... Tum... Tum... Tum... Tum... Tum!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O relógio toca seis horas...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;É novo dia... e as flores estão cantando no vaso à janela!... (Não posso me despedir da vida!...) &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count:8"&gt;                                                                                                                           &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5045942917482360817-7458129540856319153?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/7458129540856319153/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=7458129540856319153&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/7458129540856319153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/7458129540856319153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2009/10/despedida.html' title='Despedida'/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/Sty0AnK4OxI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/6hO2rWpwOYM/s72-c/C%C3%B3pia+de+IMG1602A.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-3837948697916880917</id><published>2009-10-06T06:55:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T07:02:13.338-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Um beijo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/SssVYKHcp7I/AAAAAAAAAVI/oeVWrsZNCqQ/s1600-h/img0715.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 341px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/SssVYKHcp7I/AAAAAAAAAVI/oeVWrsZNCqQ/s400/img0715.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389424883855566770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;Meu amor,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;Hoje quis te enviar meu beijo. Um beijo na boca. Desses de encontros das línguas que se alternam com outro beijo delicado, só provocando.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;Sei que serei eu a tomar essa iniciativa. Mas tu o queres. Teus olhos em meus lábios são a certeza de que não te parecerei ousada. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;Prometo-te que durante esse beijo eu serei carinhosa. Sensual até. Minhas mãos, em tu corpo, buscarão teu peito por baixo de tua camisa. Suavemente como se meus dedos fossem lábios deslizarão por sobre tua epiderme quente. Em movimentos marotos, acelerando teus batimentos cardíacos, só para te deixar enlouquecido de prazer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;E quando minha boca se desligar da tua, dar-te-ei leves mordidas nos lábios. Em seguida, com a umidade de meu sabor, olhos fechados, como uma poesia, contornarei tua boca com minha língua. Faremos versos aí. Sem pressa. Explorando, conhecendo, demarcando território. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;Numa linguagem corporal, meu beijo dirá que te amo. Entre gemidos de minha boca e arrepios de meu corpo, tu saberás que é o momento certo para me amar. Então, tuas mãos, gentilmente, envolverão meu rosto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;Teu corpo colado ao meu, embriagando meus sentidos de tanto desejo, me dirá que sou tua amada para todo o sempre. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;A grande custo, libertarei teus lábios desse fado. E em delírios de meus lábios atrevidos ainda o resto de teu corpo será prisioneiro meu. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;Cheia de amor,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;Esta flor. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5045942917482360817-3837948697916880917?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/3837948697916880917/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=3837948697916880917&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/3837948697916880917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/3837948697916880917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2009/10/um-beijo.html' title='Um beijo'/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/SssVYKHcp7I/AAAAAAAAAVI/oeVWrsZNCqQ/s72-c/img0715.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-2412386240079531625</id><published>2009-10-06T06:42:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T06:53:48.630-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Saudade</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/SssTez9gFhI/AAAAAAAAAVA/3f0Eleyv7gs/s1600-h/romantica-perfil-5674-thumb-280.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 280px; height: 280px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/SssTez9gFhI/AAAAAAAAAVA/3f0Eleyv7gs/s400/romantica-perfil-5674-thumb-280.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389422799144097298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Brasil, 27 de junho de 2009.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Amor,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Quis não te escrever. Juro-te! Prometi a mim mesma um doce, aquele sorvete de goiaba que tanto gosto. E nada! Então, arrisquei não falar na palavra saudade, mas meu coração me traiu. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;O vazio tomou, assim, conta da minha alma sem a tua presença; sem nossos momentos à noite. Minha cabeça virou um redemoinho de palavras ditas por nós. Ah, quantas vezes eu &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;disse que te amo quando aninhei meu rosto ao teu? Recordas de meus olhos namorando nos teus?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Eles viviam felizes. No momento, abrigo um medo de não voltar a ti ver; de não respirar das tuas emoções quando meu corpo te chamar na noite deserta. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Ah, meu eterno amor! Minhas horas são lentas quando não estás junto a mim. E meu coração sofre sem sentir o teu junto dele. Cada sorriso que deste, vive em meu olhar. São eles que ainda preenchem um pouco meus dias. Teus carinhos, que extasiavam minha pele , moram em meus sonhos continuamente. Aflitos, neste instante, meus braços envolvem meu corpo para não cair na solidão que me restou de nosso amor. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Como o amor é tão contrário a si mesmo; meu íntimo sorri, às vezes. Vê: sou uma mulher que vive iluminada de uma esperança. Não posso deixá-la morrer. Isso seria contrário à minha forma de amar. Ao menos isso ainda tenho:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;o direito de sonhar contigo. Meu amor é maior que essa saudade! E sei que não se pode medir o amor! Como mensurar a beleza de uma flor que nasce? Ou do voo livre de um beija-flor? Quem conta as infinitas vezes que disse ao mesmo amor: Eu te amo?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;No entanto, dói pensar que as flores murcham ao fim da tarde!... É um tormento conhecer o regador e não dizer a ele que as sementes germinaram e necessitam de cuidados. E enlaçar os olhos numa árvore frondosa é tão belo! Sorrir quando a luz penetra em seus galhos é um canto de amor!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Não deixes meu amor ser um sofrimento! Não recuses meu presente. O futuro nos convida... vem! Meu amor não pode viver longe de ti! E sei que não queres viver sem mim...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Desta flor que te ama. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5045942917482360817-2412386240079531625?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/2412386240079531625/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=2412386240079531625&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/2412386240079531625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/2412386240079531625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2009/10/saudade.html' title='Saudade'/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/SssTez9gFhI/AAAAAAAAAVA/3f0Eleyv7gs/s72-c/romantica-perfil-5674-thumb-280.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-420970458411585511</id><published>2009-10-06T06:23:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T06:26:47.077-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Declaração de amor</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/SssM_wa0UdI/AAAAAAAAAU0/1BCuhrYfENQ/s1600-h/poesias_amantes.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 276px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/SssM_wa0UdI/AAAAAAAAAU0/1BCuhrYfENQ/s400/poesias_amantes.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389415668547604946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:115%"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC9933;"&gt;Amado,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC9933;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC9933;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:115%"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC9933;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:115%"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC9933;"&gt;Há momentos, em que penso em desistir de ti esperar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC9933;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:115%"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC9933;"&gt;Há instantes, que meu peito sangra nessa espera...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC9933;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:115%"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC9933;"&gt;E choro... (Toda)!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC9933;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:115%"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC9933;"&gt;Mas uma voz me consola: “Ele é teu amor!... Confia!”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC9933;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:115%"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC9933;"&gt;Então aprendi que não tenho o porquê de exigir teu amor. Apesar de ter boas razões para isso: já fui uma flor de teu jardim! E deixo que a natureza cante em teu coração. Só não nego: aguardo os segundos em que estarei em teus braços. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC9933;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC9933;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:115%"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC9933;"&gt;Aprendi que amores vão embora... outros vêm. Não tenho como te reter! Mas para sempre tu estarás comigo. Sei que as palavras, às vezes, deixam fugir seu sentido; porém teus olhos estão aquecidos em meu coração. E dele, não há como fugir. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC9933;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:115%"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC9933;"&gt;Certas palavras doem quando as falamos... Outras têm doce sabor! “Amor!” é palavra que avidamente saboreio; escorre-me pelos lábios, viaja em minha pele, contorna o lóbulo de minhas orelhas arrepiando-me por dentro. (E faço de conta que me chamas assim também... A alma fica acesa de prazer!).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC9933;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:115%"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC9933;"&gt;E chego a fazer amor contigo! Desde eras antigas nos amamos... Diz minha boca à tua! Como tão grande amor pôde esperar? E ficamos um perante o outro conservando n’alma o sabor desse encontro. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC9933;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:115%"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC9933;"&gt;Ainda o cultivo comigo! Estás em minha memória. Foram momentos para se gravar em uma tela de pintor. E se choro, é por que um beija-flor, cheio de feitiço, anunciou que vai namorar uma das flores de meu quintal... Vês? A vida em torno de mim segue...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC9933;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:115%"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC9933;"&gt;Porém te imploro... Dobra esta carta e guarda-a em teu livro mais raro, a ti!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC9933;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:115%"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC9933;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:115%"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC9933;"&gt;Desta flor. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:115%;font-size:12.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5045942917482360817-420970458411585511?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/420970458411585511/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=420970458411585511&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/420970458411585511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/420970458411585511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2009/10/declaracao-de-amor.html' title='Declaração de amor'/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/SssM_wa0UdI/AAAAAAAAAU0/1BCuhrYfENQ/s72-c/poesias_amantes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-545797709758925012</id><published>2009-09-21T07:29:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T07:31:16.319-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Amor para todo o sempre</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/SrdVxX0COtI/AAAAAAAAAR4/rENrfiX5oho/s1600-h/casal-amor-paixao.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/SrdVxX0COtI/AAAAAAAAAR4/rENrfiX5oho/s400/casal-amor-paixao.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383866186238933714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" color: rgb(102, 51, 0); font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;h2 class="titulo"  style="margin-bottom: 20px; margin-top: 0px; font-size:18px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;Amor,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;div class="tex" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); padding-bottom: 26px; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vens em meus sonhos todas as noites quando fecho meus olhos, até que vou saindo de mim; como um sopro de vento que lentamente singra mares, que ultrapassa continentes e depois morre no corpo amado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neles, eu sempre a repetir: amo-te, amo-te, amo-te!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;São sonhos que me vêm, vorazes, tornando amantes nossas bocas. Neles, nossos desejos não respeitam limites nem fronteiras do prazer. Entre mãos sedosas tu me levas a galopes de sensações na pele. E Descubro-me acordada dialogando com teu corpo. Assim deixamos cair pelo chão os últimos vestígios de que apenas sonhamos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E anseio para todo o sempre pensar em ti, amor meu; em que todas as horas sejam noite. Que o período do relógio escape-me dos olhos; e eu fique cega diante da vigília de ti amar. E que Veja mensagens tuas nas flores desabrochando ao tom do sol; a escutar de meu coração tua voz dizendo-me que me quer. E depois eu venha ao entardecer, armar minha rede para ti aguardar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nas horas de meu sono, falo de ti para minha alma, essa eterna apaixonada, desabrigando de mim meu coração. Ele se refugia na quietude de teu nome, espaçando os braços para voar a ti. Ah, meus sonhos de amor são a testemunha de que o tempo transcorre mais ameno nas sombras do dia. E viajo nessas eras como num enleio de amor sobre a noite!...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Em idas e vindas de meus sonhos, encontro meu corpo sempre sedento do teu e te chamo... Esperando ser consumida em nosso fogo de amor!...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E já sonhei que vinhas de muito longe só para me amar!... Para todo o sempre!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(... da janela de meus sonhos te chamo nas noites...)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5045942917482360817-545797709758925012?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/545797709758925012/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=545797709758925012&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/545797709758925012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/545797709758925012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2009/09/amor-para-todo-o-sempre.html' title='Amor para todo o sempre'/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/SrdVxX0COtI/AAAAAAAAAR4/rENrfiX5oho/s72-c/casal-amor-paixao.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5045942917482360817.post-4640894655600994413</id><published>2009-09-19T17:06:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-19T17:10:19.573-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Boa noite, amor</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/SrU6eJkoOSI/AAAAAAAAARc/iOdsDZGLRSI/s1600-h/romeo-and-juliet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/SrU6eJkoOSI/AAAAAAAAARc/iOdsDZGLRSI/s400/romeo-and-juliet.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383273219231332642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Meu amado,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Hoje para dizer o quanto te amo, minha palavra deveria conter as belezas de um verso de amor.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;  &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Não bastaria eu te confessar “Eu te amo”, nem dizer que meu corpo fala essa mesma declaração toda vez que nos entregamos um ao outro.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;  &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Amado, eu deveria escrever-te um poema de amor. O mais belo, o mais romântico; que caminhasse de mãos dadas com meu olhar toda vez que eu pensasse em ti confessar este tão profundo amor. E sei que se minhas palavras fossem escritas numa poesia, bastariam para abrir o botão de rosas no jardim de teu coração. E eu queria que elas beijassem teus lábios e corressem em tua pele, sensitivas de minhas emoções. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Se eu fosse poeta, te escreveria versos narrando que estou em fogo de tanto querer; que aninhada nas entrelinhas das palavras, eu te queria ser um toque de paixão. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Se eu fosse poeta, para dizer de meu amor; eu descreveria um ambiente em floração da natureza, com pássaros canoros, águas de um riacho inocente e uma noite em seresta de estrelas. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Eu não te sei fazer versos de amor. Não sei contar de minha &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;ternura com palavras. Não entendo da profundidade da meiguice de um poema. Mas é que meu corpo está em fervor de paixão; numa mistura de detalhes de teus gestos das horas em que amamos. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Eu estou desarmada de palavras belas. Elas me escapam a um sorriso de meus olhos, pois sabem do brilho deles quando tu me brindas com: “Eu te amo”!...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Então, hoje, eu apenas digo: “Boa noite, meu amor!”&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5045942917482360817-4640894655600994413?l=teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/feeds/4640894655600994413/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5045942917482360817&amp;postID=4640894655600994413&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/4640894655600994413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5045942917482360817/posts/default/4640894655600994413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://teresacristinaflordecaju61.blogspot.com/2009/09/boa-noite-amor.html' title='Boa noite, amor'/><author><name>Teresa Cristina flordecaju</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16926938323330620107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/S57DbAdZ_WI/AAAAAAAAA0A/Qfk1LNVq7Wg/S220/Zkgff4i.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yGHZWgEyDnQ/SrU6eJkoOSI/AAAAAAAAARc/iOdsDZGLRSI/s72-c/romeo-and-juliet.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
