<?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-7201641476681824446</id><updated>2012-02-17T00:18:51.373-02:00</updated><title type='text'>AP52</title><subtitle type='html'>Diário</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crisbluerose.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7201641476681824446/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crisbluerose.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Sandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05820006674067627351</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R6UKmMWkJjI/AAAAAAAAAAg/1Ip9d_qsTy0/S220/pordosol.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201641476681824446.post-8079107741728450066</id><published>2008-06-19T20:08:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T20:12:51.922-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Vozes do Mar</title><content type='html'>Quando o sol vai caindo sobre as águas&lt;br /&gt;Num nervoso delíquio d’oiro intenso,&lt;br /&gt;Donde vem essa voz cheia de mágoas&lt;br /&gt;Com que falas à terra, ó mar imenso?…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tu falas de festins, e cavalgadas&lt;br /&gt;De cavaleiros errantes ao luar?&lt;br /&gt;Falas de caravelas encantadas&lt;br /&gt;Que dormem em teu seio a soluçar?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tens cantos d’epopeias?&lt;br /&gt;Tens anseios d’amarguras?&lt;br /&gt;Tu tens também receios,&lt;br /&gt;Ó mar cheio de esperança e majestade?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Donde vem essa voz,ó mar amigo?…&lt;br /&gt;Talvez a voz do Portugal antigo,&lt;br /&gt;Chamando por Camões numa saudade!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7201641476681824446-8079107741728450066?l=crisbluerose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crisbluerose.blogspot.com/feeds/8079107741728450066/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7201641476681824446&amp;postID=8079107741728450066' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7201641476681824446/posts/default/8079107741728450066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7201641476681824446/posts/default/8079107741728450066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crisbluerose.blogspot.com/2008/06/vozes-do-mar.html' title='Vozes do Mar'/><author><name>Sandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05820006674067627351</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R6UKmMWkJjI/AAAAAAAAAAg/1Ip9d_qsTy0/S220/pordosol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201641476681824446.post-3514545922577533026</id><published>2008-05-31T22:09:00.009-03:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T22:48:38.970-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Perguntei pro mar</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/SEH_NPp0FqI/AAAAAAAAADA/CR3DZNcmoo0/s1600-h/abstrato.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206723247222298274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/SEH_NPp0FqI/AAAAAAAAADA/CR3DZNcmoo0/s320/abstrato.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt; Perguntei pro mar,&lt;br /&gt;se estou certo ou errado&lt;br /&gt;De ficar esperando o meu amor.&lt;br /&gt;Ele me respondeu:&lt;br /&gt;Já se passaram dez anos&lt;br /&gt;Eu só existo de tanto você chorar!&lt;br /&gt;Escute o que seu coração tem a dizer&lt;br /&gt;Você e tão bom e merece ser feliz&lt;br /&gt;É so olhar para o céu,&lt;br /&gt;e escolher uma estrela!&lt;br /&gt;Pede para ele te mostrar&lt;br /&gt;o seu novo amor!&lt;br /&gt;Olhei pra o lado e encontrei&lt;br /&gt;uma pessoa q estava triste como eu&lt;br /&gt;Cheguei mais perto&lt;br /&gt;e abri meu coração&lt;br /&gt;sem medo de errar.&lt;br /&gt;Ah... que olhar azul...&lt;br /&gt;é a cor do novo amor&lt;br /&gt;E você! que entrou no meu caminho&lt;br /&gt;só pra me fazer feliz&lt;br /&gt;E você! que vai ter de presente&lt;br /&gt;todo o meu amor&lt;br /&gt;Então me beija, me abraça,&lt;br /&gt;vamos recomeçar o tempo!&lt;br /&gt;E eu vou agradecer a estrela&lt;br /&gt;que te trouxe pra mim...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Bruno Lima)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&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/7201641476681824446-3514545922577533026?l=crisbluerose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crisbluerose.blogspot.com/feeds/3514545922577533026/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7201641476681824446&amp;postID=3514545922577533026' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7201641476681824446/posts/default/3514545922577533026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7201641476681824446/posts/default/3514545922577533026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crisbluerose.blogspot.com/2008/05/perguntei-pro-mar.html' title='Perguntei pro mar'/><author><name>Sandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05820006674067627351</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R6UKmMWkJjI/AAAAAAAAAAg/1Ip9d_qsTy0/S220/pordosol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/SEH_NPp0FqI/AAAAAAAAADA/CR3DZNcmoo0/s72-c/abstrato.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201641476681824446.post-6935451151161463160</id><published>2008-05-18T18:51:00.007-03:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T22:03:39.268-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Noturno</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/SDzCPX8ksHI/AAAAAAAAAC4/zZxImCFEtcQ/s1600-h/barco.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205248838715355250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/SDzCPX8ksHI/AAAAAAAAAC4/zZxImCFEtcQ/s320/barco.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; &lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Veleiro ao cais amarrado &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;em vago balouço, dorme? Não dorme. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sonha, acordado, que vai pelo mar enorme, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;pelo mar ilimitado. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Se acaso me objetardes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;que veleiro não é gente e, assim, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;não sonha nem sente, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;sem orgulhos nem alardes eu direi: &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;por que haveria de falar-vos do homem triste&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;mas de olhar grave e profundo que,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;à amargura acorrentado sonha, no entanto, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;que vive toda a beleza do mundo? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Melhor é dizer: Veleiro... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;veleiro ao cais amarrado, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;sob as límpidas estrelas. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Vela branca é uma alma trêmula, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;sobretudo se cai sombra do alto abismo constelado. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Veleiro, sim, que não dorme &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;mas na silente penumbra sonha, ao balouço, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;acordado que vai pelo mar enorme, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;pelo mar ilimitado. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;(Tasso da Silveira)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&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/7201641476681824446-6935451151161463160?l=crisbluerose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crisbluerose.blogspot.com/feeds/6935451151161463160/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7201641476681824446&amp;postID=6935451151161463160' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7201641476681824446/posts/default/6935451151161463160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7201641476681824446/posts/default/6935451151161463160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crisbluerose.blogspot.com/2008/05/noturno.html' title='Noturno'/><author><name>Sandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05820006674067627351</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R6UKmMWkJjI/AAAAAAAAAAg/1Ip9d_qsTy0/S220/pordosol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/SDzCPX8ksHI/AAAAAAAAAC4/zZxImCFEtcQ/s72-c/barco.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201641476681824446.post-2654676819632756259</id><published>2008-04-27T21:52:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T22:08:21.095-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Eu sei...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/SBUiJwkm6VI/AAAAAAAAACo/Km9XCzN3inU/s1600-h/rosamar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194095296294349138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/SBUiJwkm6VI/AAAAAAAAACo/Km9XCzN3inU/s320/rosamar.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tudo pode acontecer...&lt;br /&gt;Eu sei, nosso amor não vai morrer&lt;br /&gt;Vou pedir aos céus,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;você aqui comigo&lt;br /&gt;Vou jogar no mar, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;flores pra te encontrar...&lt;br /&gt;Não sei porque você disse adeus&lt;br /&gt;Guardei o beijo que você me deu&lt;br /&gt;Vou pedir aos céus, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;você aqui comigo&lt;br /&gt;Vou jogar no mar, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;flores pra te encontrar...&lt;br /&gt;You say good-bye, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and I say hello&lt;/strong&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/7201641476681824446-2654676819632756259?l=crisbluerose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crisbluerose.blogspot.com/feeds/2654676819632756259/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7201641476681824446&amp;postID=2654676819632756259' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7201641476681824446/posts/default/2654676819632756259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7201641476681824446/posts/default/2654676819632756259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crisbluerose.blogspot.com/2008/04/eu-sei-tudo-pode-acontecer.html' title='Eu sei...'/><author><name>Sandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05820006674067627351</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R6UKmMWkJjI/AAAAAAAAAAg/1Ip9d_qsTy0/S220/pordosol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/SBUiJwkm6VI/AAAAAAAAACo/Km9XCzN3inU/s72-c/rosamar.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201641476681824446.post-7643701152989843975</id><published>2008-04-13T19:41:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T20:20:43.930-03:00</updated><title type='text'>E Tu</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/SAKTKi2TcGI/AAAAAAAAACg/7qyHQOX0-ms/s1600-h/amor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188871530046779490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/SAKTKi2TcGI/AAAAAAAAACg/7qyHQOX0-ms/s320/amor.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Accoccolati ad ascoltare il mare&lt;br /&gt;quanto tempo siamo stati senza fiatare.&lt;br /&gt;Seguire il tuo profilo con un dito&lt;br /&gt;mentre il vento accarezzava piano il tuo vestito...&lt;br /&gt;E tu, fatta di sguardi tu e di sorrisi ingenui tu.&lt;br /&gt;Ed io, a piedi nudi io sfioravo i tuoi capelli io,&lt;br /&gt;e fermarci a giocare con una formica&lt;br /&gt;e poi chiudere gli occhi non pensare più.&lt;br /&gt;Senti freddo anche tu...&lt;br /&gt;E nascoste nell'ombra della sera poche stelle &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;ed un brivido improvviso sulla tua pelle.&lt;br /&gt;Poi correre felici a perdifiato,&lt;br /&gt;fare a gara per vedere chi resta indietro.&lt;br /&gt;E tu, in un sospiro tu, in ogni mio pensiero tu.&lt;br /&gt;Ed io, restavo zitto io, per non sciupare tutto io,&lt;br /&gt;e baciarti le labbra con un filo d'erba&lt;br /&gt;e scoprirti più bella, coi capelli in sue&lt;br /&gt;mi piaci di più... forse sei l'amore.&lt;br /&gt;E adesso non ci sei che tu&lt;br /&gt;soltanto tu e sempre tu...&lt;br /&gt;che stai scoppiando dentro il cuore mio.&lt;br /&gt;Ed io, che cosa mai farei se adesso non ci fossi tu&lt;br /&gt;ad inventare questo amore?&lt;br /&gt;E per gioco noi siamo caduti coi vestiti in mare&lt;br /&gt;ed un bacio e un altro e un altro ancora...&lt;br /&gt;da non poterti dire,&lt;br /&gt;che tu pallida e dolce tu eri già tutto quanto tu&lt;br /&gt;ed io, non ci credevo io e ti tenevo stretta io&lt;br /&gt;coi vestiti inzuppati, stare li a scherzare&lt;br /&gt;poi fermarci stupiti: "Io vorrei.... cioè...."&lt;br /&gt;ho bisogno di te... dammi un po' d'amore...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7201641476681824446-7643701152989843975?l=crisbluerose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crisbluerose.blogspot.com/feeds/7643701152989843975/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7201641476681824446&amp;postID=7643701152989843975' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7201641476681824446/posts/default/7643701152989843975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7201641476681824446/posts/default/7643701152989843975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crisbluerose.blogspot.com/2008/04/e-tu.html' title='E Tu'/><author><name>Sandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05820006674067627351</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R6UKmMWkJjI/AAAAAAAAAAg/1Ip9d_qsTy0/S220/pordosol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/SAKTKi2TcGI/AAAAAAAAACg/7qyHQOX0-ms/s72-c/amor.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201641476681824446.post-9144021849817279042</id><published>2008-03-22T17:42:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T17:58:32.608-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Todo azul do mar</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R-Vwi4ii-CI/AAAAAAAAACY/x3HeOcSQRK4/s1600-h/olhosmar.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180670690954770466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R-Vwi4ii-CI/AAAAAAAAACY/x3HeOcSQRK4/s320/olhosmar.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Foi assim, como ver o mar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;A primeira vez, que meus olhos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Se viram no seu olhar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Não tive a intenção, de me apaixonar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Mera distração, e já era &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Momento de se gostar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Quando eu dei por mim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Nem tentei fugir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Do visgo que me prendeu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Dentro do seu olhar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Quando eu mergulhei &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;No azul do Mar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Sabia que era amor &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;E vinha pra ficar &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Daria pra pintar todo azul do céu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Dava pra encher, o universo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Da vida que eu quis pra mim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Tudo que eu fiz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Foi me confessar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Escravo do seu amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Livre pra amar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Quando eu mergulhei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Fundo nesse olhar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Fui dono do mar azul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;De todo azul do mar &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Foi assim como ver o mar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Foi a primeira vez, que eu vi o mar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Onda azul, todo azul do mar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Daria pra beber todo azul do mar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Foi quando eu mergulhei, no azul do mar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7201641476681824446-9144021849817279042?l=crisbluerose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crisbluerose.blogspot.com/feeds/9144021849817279042/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7201641476681824446&amp;postID=9144021849817279042' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7201641476681824446/posts/default/9144021849817279042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7201641476681824446/posts/default/9144021849817279042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crisbluerose.blogspot.com/2008/03/foi-assim-como-ver-o-mar-primeira-vez.html' title='Todo azul do mar'/><author><name>Sandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05820006674067627351</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R6UKmMWkJjI/AAAAAAAAAAg/1Ip9d_qsTy0/S220/pordosol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R-Vwi4ii-CI/AAAAAAAAACY/x3HeOcSQRK4/s72-c/olhosmar.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201641476681824446.post-2586820635531454669</id><published>2008-03-20T22:07:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T22:30:16.393-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Verão...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R-MPWoii-BI/AAAAAAAAACQ/1i6_B3Anydk/s1600-h/pordosol.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180000877920057362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R-MPWoii-BI/AAAAAAAAACQ/1i6_B3Anydk/s320/pordosol.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;O sol esticou-se na orla&lt;br /&gt;fez costeiro o roçar do continente&lt;br /&gt;lançando luzes e sombras irresistíveis&lt;br /&gt;ao vento&lt;br /&gt;cortado pelo nó da vela&lt;br /&gt;enlaçada à nuca do horizonte&lt;br /&gt;sob a brisa de meus olhos gastos...&lt;br /&gt;Verei...&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/7201641476681824446-2586820635531454669?l=crisbluerose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crisbluerose.blogspot.com/feeds/2586820635531454669/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7201641476681824446&amp;postID=2586820635531454669' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7201641476681824446/posts/default/2586820635531454669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7201641476681824446/posts/default/2586820635531454669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crisbluerose.blogspot.com/2008/03/vero.html' title='Verão...'/><author><name>Sandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05820006674067627351</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R6UKmMWkJjI/AAAAAAAAAAg/1Ip9d_qsTy0/S220/pordosol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R-MPWoii-BI/AAAAAAAAACQ/1i6_B3Anydk/s72-c/pordosol.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201641476681824446.post-1801508473872848297</id><published>2008-03-16T19:26:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T19:35:19.822-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Uma noite eu tive um sonho...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R92gDBHcgJI/AAAAAAAAACI/MxNoCEbXHq4/s1600-h/jesus+praia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178471120245653650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R92gDBHcgJI/AAAAAAAAACI/MxNoCEbXHq4/s320/jesus+praia.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sonhei que estava andando na praia com o Senhor e através do céu, passavam cenas da minha vida.&lt;br /&gt;Para cada cena que passava, percebi que eram deixados dois pares de pegadas na areia: um era meu e o outro era do Senhor.&lt;br /&gt;Quando a última cena passou diante de nós, olhei para trás, para as pegadas na areia e notei que muitas vezes, no caminho da minha vida, havia apenas um par de pegadas na areia.&lt;br /&gt;Notei também que isso aconteceu nos momentos mais difíceis e angustiosos do meu viver. Isso me aborreceu deveras e perguntei então ao Senhor:&lt;br /&gt;- Senhor, Tu me disseste que, uma vez que resolvi te seguir, Tu andarias sempre comigo, em todo o caminho. Contudo, notei que durante as maiores atribulações do meu viver, havia apenas um par de pegadas na areia. Não compreendo porque nas horas em que eu mais necessitava de Ti, Tu me deixaste sozinho.&lt;br /&gt;O Senhor me respondeu:&lt;br /&gt;- Meu querido filho. Jamais eu te deixaria nas horas de provas e de sofrimento. Quando viste, na areia, apenas um par de pegadas, eram as minhas. Foi exatamente aí que eu te carreguei nos braços.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7201641476681824446-1801508473872848297?l=crisbluerose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crisbluerose.blogspot.com/feeds/1801508473872848297/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7201641476681824446&amp;postID=1801508473872848297' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7201641476681824446/posts/default/1801508473872848297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7201641476681824446/posts/default/1801508473872848297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crisbluerose.blogspot.com/2008/03/uma-noite-eu-tive-um-sonho.html' title='Uma noite eu tive um sonho...'/><author><name>Sandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05820006674067627351</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R6UKmMWkJjI/AAAAAAAAAAg/1Ip9d_qsTy0/S220/pordosol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R92gDBHcgJI/AAAAAAAAACI/MxNoCEbXHq4/s72-c/jesus+praia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201641476681824446.post-8017081568192443598</id><published>2008-03-01T19:49:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2008-03-01T20:23:06.471-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O Mar serenou...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R8ni96r0DTI/AAAAAAAAACA/eRPWu3tUqeA/s1600-h/sereiapedra.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172915200364645682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R8ni96r0DTI/AAAAAAAAACA/eRPWu3tUqeA/s320/sereiapedra.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O mar serenou quando ela pisou na areia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quem samba na beira do mar é sereia.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O pescador não tem medo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;É segredo se volta ou se fica no fundo do mar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ao ver a morena bonita, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;sambando se explica que não vai pescar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Deixa o mar serenar...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O mar serenou quando ela pisou na areia&lt;br /&gt;Quem samba na beira do mar é sereia.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A lua brilhava vaidosa, de si orgulhosa &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e prosa com que Deus lhe deu.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ao ver a morena sambando,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;foi se acabrunhando, então adormeceu&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e o sol apareceu.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O mar serenou quando ela pisou na areia&lt;br /&gt;Quem samba na beira do mar é sereia.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um frio danado que vinha do lado gelado,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;que o povo até se intimidou.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Morena aceitou o desafio,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;sambou e o frio sentiu seu calor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e o samba se esquentou.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O mar serenou quando ela pisou na areia&lt;br /&gt;Quem samba na beira do mar é sereia.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A estrela que estava escondida&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;sentiu-se atraída, depois então apareceu&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mas ficou tão enternecida e&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;indagou a si mesma: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A estrela afinal, será ela ou sou eu? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O mar serenou quando ela pisou na areia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quem samba na beira do mar é sereia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7201641476681824446-8017081568192443598?l=crisbluerose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crisbluerose.blogspot.com/feeds/8017081568192443598/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7201641476681824446&amp;postID=8017081568192443598' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7201641476681824446/posts/default/8017081568192443598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7201641476681824446/posts/default/8017081568192443598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crisbluerose.blogspot.com/2008/03/o-mar-serenou-quando-ela-pisou-na-areia.html' title='O Mar serenou...'/><author><name>Sandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05820006674067627351</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R6UKmMWkJjI/AAAAAAAAAAg/1Ip9d_qsTy0/S220/pordosol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R8ni96r0DTI/AAAAAAAAACA/eRPWu3tUqeA/s72-c/sereiapedra.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201641476681824446.post-5160088881513953174</id><published>2008-02-23T21:54:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2008-02-23T22:22:28.053-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Não piso a concha...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R8DGSqXInPI/AAAAAAAAAB4/FhRPpzrdEpk/s1600-h/concha.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170350396132596978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R8DGSqXInPI/AAAAAAAAAB4/FhRPpzrdEpk/s320/concha.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; Não piso a concha&lt;br /&gt;abandonada pela onda que o mar trouxe.&lt;br /&gt;Recolho-a e ouço a voz dos tempos&lt;br /&gt;As dores e os amores agarrados às palavras.&lt;br /&gt;Fala-me das ilhas e dos navios&lt;br /&gt;Das janelas dos naufrágios&lt;br /&gt;E das flores marinhas que os acompanharam.&lt;br /&gt;Ali na espuma tudo é transparente&lt;br /&gt;Aflora palavra, a verdade e&lt;br /&gt;Tudo no instante de afagar a concha.&lt;br /&gt;Barco de proa à madrugada&lt;br /&gt;Navego tranqüilo&lt;br /&gt;Sem vírgulas entre as palavras&lt;br /&gt;Porque não há instantes interrompidos.&lt;br /&gt;Na limpidez de uns olhos profundos&lt;br /&gt;Está o mar que sulco&lt;br /&gt;Com uma ave no mastro.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7201641476681824446-5160088881513953174?l=crisbluerose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crisbluerose.blogspot.com/feeds/5160088881513953174/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7201641476681824446&amp;postID=5160088881513953174' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7201641476681824446/posts/default/5160088881513953174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7201641476681824446/posts/default/5160088881513953174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crisbluerose.blogspot.com/2008/02/no-piso-concha-abandonada-pela-onda-que.html' title='Não piso a concha...'/><author><name>Sandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05820006674067627351</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R6UKmMWkJjI/AAAAAAAAAAg/1Ip9d_qsTy0/S220/pordosol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R8DGSqXInPI/AAAAAAAAAB4/FhRPpzrdEpk/s72-c/concha.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201641476681824446.post-3071102706260180316</id><published>2008-02-15T22:38:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2008-02-15T22:50:04.745-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Estrela do Mar</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R7YybqXInMI/AAAAAAAAABg/wIgzH0td6WU/s1600-h/estrelamar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167373073263402178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R7YybqXInMI/AAAAAAAAABg/wIgzH0td6WU/s320/estrelamar.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Numa noite em que o céu tinha um brilho mais forte&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;E em que o sono parecia disposto a não vir&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Fui estender-me na praia, sozinho, ao relento&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;E ali longe do tempo, acabei por dormir&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Acordei com o toque suave de um beijo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;E uma cara sardenta encheu-me o olhar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ainda meio a sonhar perguntei-lhe quem era&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ela riu-se e disse baixinho: Estrela do Mar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Sou a estrela do mar só a ele obedeço&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Só ele me conhece, só ele sabe quem sou&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;No princípio e no fim&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Só a ele sou fiel e é ele quem me protege&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Quando alguém quer à força&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ser dono de mim..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Não sei se era maior o desejo ou o espanto&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Só sei que por instantes deixei de pensar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Uma chama invisível incendiou-me o peito&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Qualquer coisa impossível fez-me acreditar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Em silêncio trocamos segredos e abraços&lt;br /&gt;Inscrevemos no espaço um novo alfabeto&lt;br /&gt;Já passaram mil anos sobre o nosso encontro&lt;br /&gt;Mas mil anos são pouco ou nada para estrela do mar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Estrela do mar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Só a ele obedeço&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Só ele me conhece, só ele sabe quem sou&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;No princípio e no fim&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Só a ele sou fiel e é ele quem me protege&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Quando alguém quer à força&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ser dono de mim..." &lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Jorge Palma&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7201641476681824446-3071102706260180316?l=crisbluerose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crisbluerose.blogspot.com/feeds/3071102706260180316/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7201641476681824446&amp;postID=3071102706260180316' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7201641476681824446/posts/default/3071102706260180316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7201641476681824446/posts/default/3071102706260180316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crisbluerose.blogspot.com/2008/02/estrela-do-mar.html' title='Estrela do Mar'/><author><name>Sandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05820006674067627351</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R6UKmMWkJjI/AAAAAAAAAAg/1Ip9d_qsTy0/S220/pordosol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R7YybqXInMI/AAAAAAAAABg/wIgzH0td6WU/s72-c/estrelamar.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201641476681824446.post-5874506089678275973</id><published>2008-02-09T18:49:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-02-09T19:02:09.593-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Amor e Areia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R64S66XInII/AAAAAAAAABA/e8O3GTN4WMU/s1600-h/maoareia.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165086625948540034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R64S66XInII/AAAAAAAAABA/e8O3GTN4WMU/s320/maoareia.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Uma mãe e a sua filha estavam caminhando pela praia. Num certo ponto, a menina disse:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;- Como se faz para manter um amor?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;A mãe olhou para a filha e respondeu:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;- Pegue um pouco de areia e feche a mão com força…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;A menina assim fez e reparou que quanto mais forte apertava, com mais velocidade a areia  escapava entre seus dedos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;- Mamãe, mas assim a areia escapa!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;- Eu sei, agora abra completamente a mão…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;A menina assim fez mas veio um vento forte e levou consigo a areia que restava na sua palma.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;- Assim também não consigo mantê-la!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;A mãe, sempre a sorrir disse-lhe:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;- Agora pegue outra vez num pouco de areia e mantenha na mão semi-aberta como se fosse uma colher… bastante fechada para protegê-la e bastante aberta para lhe dar liberdade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;A menina experimenta e vê que a areia não se escapa da mão e está protegida do vento. E tranquilamente a mãe então responde:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;- É assim que se faz durar um amor…&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/7201641476681824446-5874506089678275973?l=crisbluerose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crisbluerose.blogspot.com/feeds/5874506089678275973/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7201641476681824446&amp;postID=5874506089678275973' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7201641476681824446/posts/default/5874506089678275973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7201641476681824446/posts/default/5874506089678275973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crisbluerose.blogspot.com/2008/02/amor-e-areia.html' title='Amor e Areia'/><author><name>Sandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05820006674067627351</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R6UKmMWkJjI/AAAAAAAAAAg/1Ip9d_qsTy0/S220/pordosol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R64S66XInII/AAAAAAAAABA/e8O3GTN4WMU/s72-c/maoareia.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7201641476681824446.post-5979715808422632140</id><published>2008-02-09T16:26:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-02-09T18:04:13.892-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Aqui está minha vida...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R63zxaXInHI/AAAAAAAAAA4/hr-uu23r3-g/s1600-h/mongagua.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165052377879321714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R63zxaXInHI/AAAAAAAAAA4/hr-uu23r3-g/s320/mongagua.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Aqui está minha vida &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;- esta areia tão clara&lt;br /&gt;com desenhos de andar &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;dedicados ao vento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aqui está minha voz&lt;br /&gt;- esta concha vazia, sombra de som&lt;br /&gt;curtindo o seu próprio lamento. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Aqui está minha dor &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;- este coral quebrado,&lt;br /&gt;sobrevivendo ao seu patético momento. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Aqui está minha herança &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;- este mar solitário,&lt;br /&gt;que de um lado era amor e, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;do outro, esquecimento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Cecilia Meireles)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7201641476681824446-5979715808422632140?l=crisbluerose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crisbluerose.blogspot.com/feeds/5979715808422632140/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7201641476681824446&amp;postID=5979715808422632140' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7201641476681824446/posts/default/5979715808422632140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7201641476681824446/posts/default/5979715808422632140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crisbluerose.blogspot.com/2008/02/aqui-est-minha-vida.html' title='Aqui está minha vida...'/><author><name>Sandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05820006674067627351</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R6UKmMWkJjI/AAAAAAAAAAg/1Ip9d_qsTy0/S220/pordosol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_lu6k3kR7mlI/R63zxaXInHI/AAAAAAAAAA4/hr-uu23r3-g/s72-c/mongagua.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
