FoxyRoxxy. Hello. My Journal.

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LOVE OF BEAUTY IS TASTE
THE CREATION OF BEAUTY
IS ART

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“The minute I heard my first love story,
I started looking for you, not knowing
how blind that was.
Lovers don't finally meet somewhere.
They're in each other all along.”
― Rumi

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“What is a treasure”

To one it may be silver, to another it may be gold, then turn the corner and you'll find one who thinks it's all the jewel's their hands or pockets can hold. To a mother it may be looking at their child as they lay asleep at night, to a father it maybe seeing his son throw his first football or teaching him how to ride a bike. At the end of a long road it maybe someone's life long dream come true. A doctor saving someone's life, a teacher providing the best tools of education that is possible to help a child advance. No matter young or old a treasure is something you hold on to forever. A treasure can be many things depending on what's inside of you.

To me a treasure is when someone who reaches for your hand and touches your heart. Sharing a cup of tea with your very best friend and talk of old past times or having someone you can go to, a shoulder to cry on during difficult times. The joy of touching someone's life and having an impact on theirs and them on yours goes far beyond words. A treasure is a single tear that comes from joy unspeakable. A treasure is a good and perfect thing, as things that come from God. These are a few things in my mind that are treasures to me, some are things of the world that you can actually see and others are of the heart, pure faith and what you believe.

All these things please keep in mind because a treasure is sometimes hard to find. So when you find one hold it near and dear and never let it go. I feel I've found a treasure in you so here's a little token to let you know.

Author: TLee

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ALGO GRAN – VIENE PARA TI

Extiende tus manos para recibir
lo que ha de venir escucha el llamado
que algo se acerca lo puedes sentir
una palabra arde fuerte en ti
desafiandote a ensanchar tu lugar
por que pronto //creceras//
coro:
algo grande viene para ti
has creido fielmente y vas a recibir
la vitoria que ha de venir nada te
impedira levantarte y volar
mas alla y tomar el lugar donde
dios te pondra
y veras que es claridad si dios provenio
el lo hara

algo grande vendra aaaaaa

observa este tiempo es cuando
mas fuerte dios quiere obrar el esta
buscando jente que anhele al mundo
impactar esa palabra arde fuerte en ti
desafiandote a ensanchar tu lugar
por que pronto //creceras//

CORO!!!

esa palabra arde fuerte en ti
desafiandote a ensanchar tu lugar por
que pronto //creceras//

CORO!!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a5O0c_ISmHI

This song really touched me the Holly spirit song it to me so it's deep in my soul now .. I am Blessed

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The King of the sky, The great eagle

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Beautiful Feel so Blessed that  I have a good eye for classy photos

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You Are My Angel

Once upon a time
Archangel in the sky
Made a cover every night

Once upon a time
The angel loved me so
It'a miracle
In the snow, my heart won't be cold

My Dear
You are my angel
Tell me what you know
Something should be told

My Dear
You are my angel
Tell me where you go
I will prance behind your flow

Once upon a time
My angel gave me life

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=byUgMOZZnoU

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IF I could live far away from all I like to live in a little house like this 

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“YOUR LOVE”

So tender, So pleasant, So sweet.
That is what your love is to me.
So precious, So lively, So happy.
That is what your love means to me.
Love, that's what we share.
It shows how much we care.
When you look at the sky.
I see that lovely twinkle in your eye.
With every touch.
Oh, how i love it so much.
With every rose.
It shows.
Passion, desire, lust, love.
Love is like air.
You cant see it.
But.
You can feel it.
It is a feeling of joyfulness.
Being with the one you love.
Sharing laughs.
Sharing kisses and touches.
The lust and desire.
It's like a rage of fire.
Burning sensation.
Lustful desires.
My love for you will never expire.
I'll be your princess and you my prince.
And with every kiss.
The wish that we wish.
Will come true.
The passion involved.
Wont dissolve.
For our love.
Is to strong.
Cant cut it with a knife.
The love wont slice.
For its power.
Is strong inside us and we will prevail.
And soon I will have a wedding Vail.
So i love you form every inch of my heart.
Your mine.
We bind.
We shall stay strong.
With the love.
We share and show how much we care.
Your mine.
I'm yours.
Forever more.
In eternity.
I Love You!

Author: Whitney Herrold

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If You Forget Me

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.”
― Pablo Neruda

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fbxi3RYeIlc

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LOS HERALDOS NEGROS

Hay golpes en la vida, tan fuertes… ¡Yo no sé!
Golpes como del odio de Dios; como si ante ellos,
la resaca de todo lo sufrido
se empozara en el alma… ¡Yo no sé!

Son pocos; pero son… Abren zanjas oscuras
en el rostro más fiero y en el lomo más fuerte.
Serán tal vez los potros de bárbaros Atilas;
o los heraldos negros que nos manda la Muerte.

Son las caídas hondas de los Cristos del alma
de alguna fe adorable que el Destino blasfema.
Esos golpes sangrientos son las crepitaciones
de algún pan que en la puerta del horno se nos quema.

Y el hombre… Pobre… ¡pobre! Vuelve los ojos, como
cuando por sobre el hombro nos llama una palmada;
vuelve los ojos locos, y todo lo vivido
se empoza, como charco de culpa, en la mirada.

Hay golpes en la vida, tan fuertes… ¡Yo no sé!

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