<?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-6095208389756956188</id><updated>2012-02-07T17:18:40.127Z</updated><category term='animais'/><category term='nostalgia'/><category term='Definição'/><category term='Ciclo'/><category term='Ressurreição     Páscoa'/><category term='camélias'/><category term='estadia'/><category term='Primavera'/><category term='Sonho'/><category term='indifinido'/><category term='africando'/><category term='Procriação'/><category term='histórias'/><category term='menina'/><category term='passeios'/><category term='João Mário'/><category term='conto'/><category term='4 estações'/><category term='cartas'/><category term='Filme À Procura da Terra do Nunca'/><category term='comunicação'/><category term='poente'/><category term='jogo'/><category term='Halloween'/><category term='chuva'/><category term='Porto Santo'/><category term='Madeira'/><category term='amizade'/><category term='raivinha'/><category term='Férias'/><category term='Dia dos namorados'/><category term='Aleluia'/><category term='pensando'/><category term='dança'/><category term='poesia'/><category term='mão de areia'/><category term='crónica'/><category term='flores primeiras'/><category term='mais experiências'/><category term='desabafo'/><category term='andorinha'/><category term='homenagem'/><category term='serenidade'/><category term='Ser Mulher'/><category term='carta'/><category term='identidade'/><category term='Natal'/><category term='Decoração'/><category term='Flores'/><category term='despedida'/><category term='vinho'/><category term='marketing'/><category term='3 em 1'/><category term='objectos'/><category term='ciência'/><category term='Advento'/><category term='Utopia'/><category term='lágrima'/><category term='recordações de infância'/><category term='Ano Novo'/><category term='arado'/><category term='Flores e floresta'/><category term='mais tentativas'/><category term='festividades'/><category term='hoje'/><category term='Opinião'/><category term='poema'/><category term='O meu jardim'/><category term='bouquet'/><category term='Erro'/><category term='homenagens'/><category term='Tarde no Ribatejo'/><category term='nocturno'/><category term='Saiu'/><category term='beleza animal.'/><category term='pesadelo'/><category term='Dia de Procissão'/><category term='Cheguei'/><category term='hortenses'/><category term='Bombeiros'/><category term='efeméride'/><category term='Viagem'/><category term='amar'/><category term='aqui e ali'/><category term='Um'/><category term='tomando banho'/><category term='´Viagens'/><category term='Outono'/><category term='Valores'/><category term='Domingo'/><category term='Parouvelar'/><category term='Açores'/><category term='trocadilho'/><category term='belezas'/><category term='mundo melhor virá'/><category term='pessoas'/><category term='desejos'/><category term='S. Valentim'/><category term='beleza abençoada'/><category term='cagarro na água'/><category term='consegui'/><category term='Filme'/><category term='Palácio da Pena'/><category term='viagens'/><category term='Dia Internacional da Mulher'/><category term='Carnaval'/><category term='Brincadeiras'/><category term='manhã'/><category term='frutos'/><category term='Pranto Divinal'/><category term='visitas'/><category term='leituras'/><category term='experiência'/><category term='Bom dia'/><category term='poetas'/><title type='text'>estouaqui</title><subtitle type='html'>Sou mulher curiosa com 72 anos. Estou experimentando esta coisa que me parece um bocadito complicada ainda. Também a minha idade não me mostra facilidades. Será que fui capaz? prometi um abraço ao Mestre. Gosto mais de o tratar assim.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>266</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-8781224684599620928</id><published>2012-02-01T09:09:00.004Z</published><updated>2012-02-01T09:09:57.929Z</updated><title type='text'>Disfarces carnavalescos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BhTKW8WPH_Q/Tyj_Lkm60ZI/AAAAAAAAByY/KC9tAMvXUSs/s1600/P802029220090802_18.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BhTKW8WPH_Q/Tyj_Lkm60ZI/AAAAAAAAByY/KC9tAMvXUSs/s320/P802029220090802_18.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp;A Capuchinho Encarnado&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;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; fotos tiradas na Festa&amp;nbsp; Redondo Florido &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qvNMxjiMvGI/TykAOlqRNRI/AAAAAAAAByg/pZBpoWsU6c8/s1600/P802029320090802_19.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qvNMxjiMvGI/TykAOlqRNRI/AAAAAAAAByg/pZBpoWsU6c8/s320/P802029320090802_19.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;A Avozinha travestida de lobo mau&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-8781224684599620928?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/8781224684599620928/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=8781224684599620928' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/8781224684599620928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/8781224684599620928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2012/02/disfarces-carnavalescos.html' title='Disfarces carnavalescos'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BhTKW8WPH_Q/Tyj_Lkm60ZI/AAAAAAAAByY/KC9tAMvXUSs/s72-c/P802029220090802_18.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-8164474910586374401</id><published>2012-02-01T08:51:00.003Z</published><updated>2012-02-01T08:51:39.953Z</updated><title type='text'>Cheiro a Carnaval</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wXhIZE3M3yA/Tyj3e1ca97I/AAAAAAAABxw/nvD9AOmKqjg/s1600/carnaval+005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wXhIZE3M3yA/Tyj3e1ca97I/AAAAAAAABxw/nvD9AOmKqjg/s320/carnaval+005.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;De apito na boca chamo o Carnaval. Como gosto muito desta época, chamo por ele precocemente. Ou não viva eu na terra do mesmo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2CmbwE-sjZs/Tyj7Om19NNI/AAAAAAAABx4/XWB9juMb96Y/s1600/Mickey+015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2CmbwE-sjZs/Tyj7Om19NNI/AAAAAAAABx4/XWB9juMb96Y/s320/Mickey+015.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RZIeP7fzo5k/Tyj7qQNPp2I/AAAAAAAAByA/I9RBbm-PwVU/s1600/Mickey+016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RZIeP7fzo5k/Tyj7qQNPp2I/AAAAAAAAByA/I9RBbm-PwVU/s320/Mickey+016.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Elh7ocAKixc/Tyj8IN0MtAI/AAAAAAAAByI/7xYy43drXgw/s1600/Mickey+018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Elh7ocAKixc/Tyj8IN0MtAI/AAAAAAAAByI/7xYy43drXgw/s320/Mickey+018.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Outro dia descobri que desceram à cidade os meus amigos da Disney. Passei a manhã a fotografá-los para depois os mostrar ao Jorge. E não fujo de os aqui colocar. ´Quando me divertia a fotografá-los um pândego encostou-se a um deles. Então eu e o homem caímos um no outro e rimos a bandeiras despregadas. Mas mesmo sendo "um boneco" não era da Disney e não o quis aqui. Reparem nas poses e nas legendas que finalmente nestas fotos não sairam. Mas eu, através do Picassa, pus-lhes legendas. Até perguntava ao Donald onde ia c/ tanta pressa. E aqui o Carnaval é O DESPORTO. Venham, está bem?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-8164474910586374401?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/8164474910586374401/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=8164474910586374401' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/8164474910586374401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/8164474910586374401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2012/02/cheiro-carnaval.html' title='Cheiro a Carnaval'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wXhIZE3M3yA/Tyj3e1ca97I/AAAAAAAABxw/nvD9AOmKqjg/s72-c/carnaval+005.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-2972545190868900520</id><published>2012-01-31T08:10:00.001Z</published><updated>2012-01-31T08:10:21.511Z</updated><title type='text'>ainda</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sXdz6CCEaXg/TyeeNmttROI/AAAAAAAABxo/xTPHQbCqqKs/s1600/Mickey+007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sXdz6CCEaXg/TyeeNmttROI/AAAAAAAABxo/xTPHQbCqqKs/s320/Mickey+007.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;Ainda e com as duas em fundo tentando beber um pouco da água gelada do Mondeguinho e, a propósito ainda da foto da Confeitaria Nacional aproveitei para saber um pouco da sua história, que transcrevo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;"Tanto a&amp;nbsp;vista para a Praça da Figueira como a decoração do interior de traça pombalina e as pinturas murais aliadas ao fabrico da doçaria que honra a tradição da casa, transportam-nos aos tempos de BALTAZAR RODRIGUES CASTANHEIRA, filho do fundador e que, na 2ª metade do séc. XIX inaugurou o 1º andar, com muito sucesso. "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;E tenho que agradecer à Irene o ter-me feito descobrir tão bela jóia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;E, no meio da desgraça do fecho atual de muito comércio e, pela tristeza enorme a que nos vota a nossa tão bela e rica BAIXA LISBOETA, encontrar esta raridade leva-nos a pensar até quando se resguardarão estas preciosidades ? E fico pensando...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-2972545190868900520?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/2972545190868900520/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=2972545190868900520' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/2972545190868900520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/2972545190868900520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2012/01/ainda.html' title='ainda'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sXdz6CCEaXg/TyeeNmttROI/AAAAAAAABxo/xTPHQbCqqKs/s72-c/Mickey+007.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-6578391625494164346</id><published>2012-01-31T07:50:00.002Z</published><updated>2012-01-31T07:50:39.850Z</updated><title type='text'>continuação</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1yVEjYG7PDM/Tyea_JSvXII/AAAAAAAABxY/psftsxsvYS4/s1600/Mickey+006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1yVEjYG7PDM/Tyea_JSvXII/AAAAAAAABxY/psftsxsvYS4/s320/Mickey+006.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Olá! Bom diazinho com sol.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Como prometi, aí está a Irene comigo no cimo da Serra. Frio... para burro! Mas um começo de comunicação muito agradável.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-E71l7_iRTbg/TyectRlHGaI/AAAAAAAABxg/y9yq9WuSPKI/s1600/Nacional.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" sda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-E71l7_iRTbg/TyectRlHGaI/AAAAAAAABxg/y9yq9WuSPKI/s1600/Nacional.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Também lhes prometi a foto da Confeitaria Nacional. Foi mais difícil de adquirir, já que tive de investigar e, mesmo assim, não consegui o que queria. Mas arranjou-se qualquer coisa. Vou buscá-la. Que pena! Ficou por cima do texto. Dá para ver que é muito linda.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-6578391625494164346?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/6578391625494164346/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=6578391625494164346' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6578391625494164346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6578391625494164346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2012/01/continuacao.html' title='continuação'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1yVEjYG7PDM/Tyea_JSvXII/AAAAAAAABxY/psftsxsvYS4/s72-c/Mickey+006.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-1333606631918908626</id><published>2012-01-28T09:09:00.003Z</published><updated>2012-01-28T09:14:13.658Z</updated><title type='text'>Janeiro de 2012</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m2XJkxZ3dRo/TyO4cdUsBmI/AAAAAAAABxQ/mxvtQJnVm84/s1600/pensativa.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" gda="true" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m2XJkxZ3dRo/TyO4cdUsBmI/AAAAAAAABxQ/mxvtQJnVm84/s320/pensativa.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Aquando da minha ida para fazer o Natal em Manteigas e quando estava na fila de um self service para almoçar, lembrei-me de olhar para trás e de fazer um comentário, já não sei a quê. A pessoa a quem me dirigi lembrou-se de me responder e assim se gerou uma pequena conversa. Logo aí e como viajávamos sozinhas, almoçámos juntas, continuando a conversar. Não é que nasceu daí uma amizade ? Há já mais de um mês que nos relacionamos até por telefone. Outro dia lembrei-me de lhe apresentar o programa de Carnaval do INATEL Pediu-me para pensar e pouco depois combinámos encontrar-nos em Lisboa para fazermos a nossa inscrição no Carnaval de OVAR. E abraçámo-nos e pusemos a conversa em dia. Depois da inscrição ainda houve tempo para um lanchinho que ela escolheu ser no Nacional. Bebemos um chá de menta e comemos um belo de um croissant com fiambre. A casa em si (interior) é um espetáculo que qualquer dia&amp;nbsp; registarei aqui, assim como a Irene, minha nova amiga.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-1333606631918908626?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/1333606631918908626/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=1333606631918908626' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/1333606631918908626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/1333606631918908626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2012/01/janeiro-de-2012.html' title='Janeiro de 2012'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m2XJkxZ3dRo/TyO4cdUsBmI/AAAAAAAABxQ/mxvtQJnVm84/s72-c/pensativa.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-2331065523739144368</id><published>2011-12-31T14:40:00.000Z</published><updated>2012-01-31T08:19:00.485Z</updated><title type='text'>Natal de 2011</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TmkkV79FFYQ/STQEBhMS3TI/AAAAAAAAA-o/YynPg4P8Ro0/s1600/pinheiros+com+neve.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" rea="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TmkkV79FFYQ/STQEBhMS3TI/AAAAAAAAA-o/YynPg4P8Ro0/s320/pinheiros+com+neve.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Porque já tenho uma família mto curta e separada, por esta altura prefiro sair a ficar em casa sózinha, pensando na riqueza humana e de afetos que foram a minha infância e juventude. Assim, este ano fui para a sempre belíssima Serra da Estrela. A imponência daquelas paisagens, mesmo sem neve, faz-nos pensar na grandiosidade daquele que assim criou tão belo. E visitei Seia, o Sabugueiro transformado numa grande superfície comercial e a Torre onde se suportaram uns pequenos grauszitos. Confesso que me arrepiei, mas pronto, passou-se. Encontrei lá numa loja um bocado de queijo mto duro, duríssimo mesmo, que eu adoro e pouco encontro.Fui ver a nascente do maior rio português e bebi da sua tão pura e leve água. E vi a Srª das Neves e respirei ar puro e... até encontrei alguém que, depois de conversar comigo, até quer ser minha amiga. Carente como eu, lá viajámos juntas (no mesmo banco do autocarro) e lá nos fartámos de pôr a oralidade em dia. Para mim até foi agradável o conhecimento. No Dia de Natal o passeio foi à minha terra. Com tudo, mesmo tudo fechado, quem não conhecia os seus monumentos, nada pôde ver. Acabámos por passear pelo seu Centro Histórico e pouco mais. matei saudades. Há mto que lá não ia. Não tinha neve, mas deixo-vos aqui estes pinheiros cheiinhos dela.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-2331065523739144368?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/2331065523739144368/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=2331065523739144368' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/2331065523739144368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/2331065523739144368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2011/12/natal-de-2011.html' title='Natal de 2011'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TmkkV79FFYQ/STQEBhMS3TI/AAAAAAAAA-o/YynPg4P8Ro0/s72-c/pinheiros+com+neve.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-7761586937972205805</id><published>2011-12-13T11:34:00.000Z</published><updated>2011-12-13T11:34:00.990Z</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/-_qBRexW6D48/Tuc31F18RzI/AAAAAAAABwg/7wcOb_ufyiU/s1600/200px-Christmas_decoration_%252528DSC04820%252529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" oda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_qBRexW6D48/Tuc31F18RzI/AAAAAAAABwg/7wcOb_ufyiU/s1600/200px-Christmas_decoration_%252528DSC04820%252529.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Sabia que...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;A Árvore de Natal começou em 1530 na Alemanha com Martinho Lutero ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Certa noite ao caminhar pela floresta, Martinho ficou impressionadíssimo com a beleza dos pinheiros cobertos de neve. As estrelas do céu ajudaram a compor a imagem que Lutero reproduziu na sua própria casa com galhos de árvore. Além das estrelas, substituiu a neve por algodão e outros enfeites. Depois utilizou velas acesas para mostrar aos familiares a bela cena presenciada na floresta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;E assim nasceu a nossa tão linda árvore de Natal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Esta tradição foi, mais tarde, levada para os Estados Unidos por emigrantes alemães que aí se decidiram fixar.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-7761586937972205805?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/7761586937972205805/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=7761586937972205805' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/7761586937972205805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/7761586937972205805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2011/12/sabia-que.html' title=''/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_qBRexW6D48/Tuc31F18RzI/AAAAAAAABwg/7wcOb_ufyiU/s72-c/200px-Christmas_decoration_%252528DSC04820%252529.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-7818604449575541229</id><published>2010-12-08T08:28:00.003Z</published><updated>2011-12-13T11:36:34.156Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Natal'/><title type='text'>Árvore de Natal</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_qBRexW6D48/Tuc31F18RzI/AAAAAAAABwg/7wcOb_ufyiU/s1600/200px-Christmas_decoration_%252528DSC04820%252529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" oda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_qBRexW6D48/Tuc31F18RzI/AAAAAAAABwg/7wcOb_ufyiU/s1600/200px-Christmas_decoration_%252528DSC04820%252529.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Sabia que...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;A Árvore de Natal começou em 1530 na Alemanha com Martinho Lutero ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Certa noite ao caminhar pela floresta, Martinho ficou impressionadíssimo com a beleza dos pinheiros cobertos de neve. As estrelas do céu ajudaram a compor a imagem que Lutero reproduziu na sua própria casa com galhos de árvore. Além das estrelas, substituiu a neve por algodão e outros enfeites. Depois utilizou velas acesas para mostrar aos familiares a bela cena presenciada na floresta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;E assim nasceu a nossa tão linda árvore de Natal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Esta tradição foi, mais tarde, levada para os Estados Unidos por emigrantes alemães que aí sedecidiram fixar.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-7818604449575541229?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/7818604449575541229/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=7818604449575541229' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/7818604449575541229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/7818604449575541229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2010/12/tinha-este-postal-no-meu-ficheiro-de.html' title='Árvore de Natal'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_qBRexW6D48/Tuc31F18RzI/AAAAAAAABwg/7wcOb_ufyiU/s72-c/200px-Christmas_decoration_%252528DSC04820%252529.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-6068437690376680293</id><published>2010-12-08T08:07:00.002Z</published><updated>2010-12-08T08:28:04.805Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/TP89KDiuKVI/AAAAAAAABvA/9A2eR7i41j0/s1600/200px-Christmas_decoration_%252528DSC04820%252529.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 327px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 282px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548220508902664530" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/TP89KDiuKVI/AAAAAAAABvA/9A2eR7i41j0/s320/200px-Christmas_decoration_%252528DSC04820%252529.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;  Estou vivendo a melhor e a mais bonita época do ano. Aquela em que o Deus-Menino, p'la mão de sua Mãe nos vem visitar. Dizem que, pobremente vestido, mas eu gosto mais de o ver sem paninhos e &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;vestidinho&lt;/span&gt; à maneira de hoje, porque Ele é muito actual e consequentemente, muito moderno. Acho que devemos olhar para o Menino do Presépio como a nossa imaginação o vê. Até o imagino &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;branquinho&lt;/span&gt; de caracóis &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;loirinhos&lt;/span&gt; e de olhinhos azuis!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;    Embora saiba que, nascendo Ele em Belém, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;dificilmente&lt;/span&gt; poderá ser como eu o pinto. E isso que importa? Basta que entre nos nossos corações e nos abrase a alma. Basta que a gruta do nosso coração se abra completamente e lhe segrede bem vindo. Basta que lhe possamos mostrar um sorriso, um afecto, um &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;côro&lt;/span&gt; de anjos. Basta que o vejamos nos outros.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Vem Senhor Jesus! Fica connosco.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-6068437690376680293?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/6068437690376680293/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=6068437690376680293' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6068437690376680293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6068437690376680293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2010/12/estou-vivendo-melhor-e-mais-bonita.html' title=''/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/TP89KDiuKVI/AAAAAAAABvA/9A2eR7i41j0/s72-c/200px-Christmas_decoration_%252528DSC04820%252529.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-3572506179713121041</id><published>2010-05-22T08:40:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2010-12-08T08:07:33.060Z</updated><title type='text'>e continuo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Apetece-me ter companhia, mas quando me é anunciada, entro num stress perfeito, sem razão aparente. mas, pelo meu signo, tento a perfeição e quero ter tudo, na minha casa, mais que impecável, o que nem sempre é possível. mas quero! E o querer tem cá uma força !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Vejo pardais namorando, melros rastejando, quais sarafanos, e patos ... patos mudos que entram num voo de jacto imperdível.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E há gente a perder calorias, eu a ganhá-las, num valente corropio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mas, o tempo está cinzento. Trouxe o guarda chuva, mas n/ chove. Só serve para me prejudicar psicológicamente. Estou depressiva e c/ vontade de desaparecer. Só que, vem aí o meu irmão Zé e a minha querida Guidinha. Da outra vou-a aguentando como posso, pelo lugar em que o meu irmão a colocou na família. Paciência!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S_eLdNMJTJI/AAAAAAAABsM/t_NHyGVVmUc/s1600/Digitalizar0001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 227px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473997205965196434" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S_eLdNMJTJI/AAAAAAAABsM/t_NHyGVVmUc/s320/Digitalizar0001.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-3572506179713121041?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/3572506179713121041/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=3572506179713121041' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/3572506179713121041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/3572506179713121041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2010/05/e-continuo.html' title='e continuo'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S_eLdNMJTJI/AAAAAAAABsM/t_NHyGVVmUc/s72-c/Digitalizar0001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-7013863073869354326</id><published>2010-05-22T08:18:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-22T08:39:10.810+01:00</updated><title type='text'>e continua</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S_eFwspAhXI/AAAAAAAABsE/UK4U7a1QpTk/s1600/Lago+de+Commo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473990943755502962" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S_eFwspAhXI/AAAAAAAABsE/UK4U7a1QpTk/s320/Lago+de+Commo.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Hoje, pelo preço do "de sempre" deram-me o dobro. perguntei e disseram-me que estava tudo OK. Embora, para eles, tudo esteja OK, admirei-me, porque, cada vez menos, alguém dá alguma coisa a alguém. Mas pronto, pronto... hoje fui beneficiada. Ou será que, hoje, a meia torrada está em promoção? Outro dia vi a "bica" em promoção"! Tal a vontade de a venderem! Cada vez mais se vê isso e eu entristeço, pois o poder de compra está a ser cada vez menor. É incrível o que está a acontecer! A propósito, este ano, nem consegui um passeio de férias para o estrangeiro, por falta de inscrições. Falta de dinheiro ou medo da nuvem? Eu inclino-me para as duas e até para uma terceira, o medo do futuro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Todas as televisões alarmam as pessoas e fazem-nas viver de medo. havemos de chegar a tempos em que, quem não tiver mealheiro pode morrer de fome, pois as aposentações estão em risco.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ai os sonhos do 25 de Abril! Serão, hoje, preocupações reais?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A C.E.E. há muito que me parece "fogo fátuo" e "vaca esgotada". para quando o positivismo destes ditos?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Pagamos, pagamos, e... melhorias? nenhumas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Valha-nos o clima e a situação geográfica do nosso tão lindo país, cheiinho deste sol que tanto nos abraça.&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/6095208389756956188-7013863073869354326?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/7013863073869354326/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=7013863073869354326' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/7013863073869354326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/7013863073869354326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2010/05/e-continua.html' title='e continua'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S_eFwspAhXI/AAAAAAAABsE/UK4U7a1QpTk/s72-c/Lago+de+Commo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-2987164108887207152</id><published>2010-05-15T08:23:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-15T08:47:39.749+01:00</updated><title type='text'>diariamente</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S-5MSsBCPkI/AAAAAAAABrk/_kaylduxYFw/s1600/p%C3%A1ssaro+guarda+rios.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471394481238588994" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S-5MSsBCPkI/AAAAAAAABrk/_kaylduxYFw/s320/p%C3%A1ssaro+guarda+rios.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;                                 E ESTE guarda-rios TÃO GIRO?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;  E hoje (10.05.14) apetece-me dizer:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;VEM DEPRESSA Ó PRIMAVERA, QUE ESTAMOS À TUA ESPERA, HÁ MUITO".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tive que ir buscar um Kispo de Inverno, 1º porque impermeável, depois porque é quente e eu tenho frio. Já o tinha lavado e guardado para o Inverno. A temperatura está baixa para a época e, o que é pior é esta humidade que me repassa os ossos e parece ser contínua. O céu claro de nuvens matizado de cinzento escuro, deixa-me nem sei como...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;   Acordei às 8 e 1/4 e poderia continuar se me virasse, mas, levantei-me, arranjei-me e fui à missa. Faz parte dos medicamentos que tomo c/ o p.a. . Saio de lá sempre de alma cheia. Canto de júbilo e saúdo o renascer da nova luz do dia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;   Depois fui à costureira mandar apertar umas calças. Tenho a impressão de que me irão fazer ainda + 1 ou 2 épocas. O tecido é bom e a vida n/ está para graças. Até ando aflita, só visto!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Agora que eu só queria conforto ainda me pedem restrições. Qualquer dia não chega para nada a pensão que tenho. Deus me ajude.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;   Ouço o chilrear de um passarito. Que quererá dizer? O som vem sempre do mesmo sítio, talvez do ninho. Conversas de família alada e penugenta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-2987164108887207152?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/2987164108887207152/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=2987164108887207152' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/2987164108887207152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/2987164108887207152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2010/05/diariamente_9903.html' title='diariamente'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S-5MSsBCPkI/AAAAAAAABrk/_kaylduxYFw/s72-c/p%C3%A1ssaro+guarda+rios.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-6654220334324737048</id><published>2010-05-15T07:58:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-15T08:23:46.135+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Primavera'/><title type='text'>mais SABOREAR</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S-5JKEV51DI/AAAAAAAABrc/906IaL3fGzw/s1600/Papa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 286px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471391034614862898" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S-5JKEV51DI/AAAAAAAABrc/906IaL3fGzw/s320/Papa.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S-5GW2ENDmI/AAAAAAAABrU/G09RLfe1rD8/s1600/Andorinha-das-chamines.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471387955585945186" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S-5GW2ENDmI/AAAAAAAABrU/G09RLfe1rD8/s320/Andorinha-das-chamines.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;E mais cheiro a Primavera&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E esta temperatura que n/ levanta!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Para o próximo mês já é Verão e não se conseguem tirar os Kispos. Ainda me arrefecem mto os pés, ainda durmo de sapatinhos de lã quentes e 2 cobertores. O sol já entra bem nos meus quartos ... às vezes apetece-me dizer que a falta de calor é falta de amor, de convivência, de gente em casa. A solidão em que vivo é gélida, mas sou quase obrigada a viver nela. Não encontro gente tão disponível como eu. Toda a gente tem marido, filhos e netos a tratar ... e, portanto, não têm vagar para convívios. A vida tornou-se complicada!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E lá me vou eu alimentando do verde relvado do parque. Faz-me descansar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E hoje (10.05.13) chove de mansinho. Em Fátima está o Papa e uma grande multidão de fiéis. Irei ver pela TV, pois não consigo estar em multidões. Às vezes só de as ver pela TV sinto falta de ar. Como o meu organismo é tão esquisito!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E já estou no SABOREAR. É um sabor de café c/ cheiro a terra molhada e verde da relva. Como devem calcular, é único. Hoje, graças a Deus, nem a música ligaram e, porque o Governo deu tolerância de ponto, o movimento é mto menor na cidade. Mas chuvisca! E que havemos de fazer?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Já comi a minha torradinha. Soube-me bem. O café é sempre temperado de cheiros primaveris e com o esvoaçar das andorinhas e dos patos. Também há crianças a correr.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E vou continuando aqui, enquanto me apetecer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-6654220334324737048?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/6654220334324737048/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=6654220334324737048' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6654220334324737048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6654220334324737048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2010/05/mais-saborear.html' title='mais SABOREAR'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S-5JKEV51DI/AAAAAAAABrc/906IaL3fGzw/s72-c/Papa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-4788103329485370720</id><published>2010-05-15T07:37:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2010-12-20T09:11:58.524Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Primavera'/><title type='text'>diariamente</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S-5ByxCvJtI/AAAAAAAABrM/YICtmfiP1TU/s1600/foto+poeta.bmp"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 158px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471382937715812050" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S-5ByxCvJtI/AAAAAAAABrM/YICtmfiP1TU/s320/foto+poeta.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt; Ando mto preocupada com tudo.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;1º a possível ou impossível venda da casa da Assenta. A minha ansiedade é mto grande. Queria que tudo acontecesse num, ápice. Sei que é impossível, mas segurar este stress é difícil. Mas, nesta data (2010.12-20) a casa está vendida, escritura feita e daqui deixou de haver preocupações.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;2º A diabetes e as heranças. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ontem numa revista da especialidade reparei que, na zona da Benespera, os terrenos estão avaliados em 150€/m2. Era de esperar tão baixo valor. Há um lote de 301m2 para urbanizar. Nesta área constroem ali uma boa vivenda. E o lote fica por menos de 50 mil €. É das tais coisas tudo quanto temos tem pouco valor. Tirando os prédios do centro da cidade, ou o lote das Lameirinhas, tudo é pouco.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Há interessado no souto e na vinha. Tenho que procurar papéis para conhecer estas áreas. E depois disponibilizar-me para ir para a Guarda uns dias. Também, neste aspecto, e na data acima referida, as coisas se vão fazendo muito devagar, é certo, mas até já se venderam coisas.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quanto à diabetes, nada há a fazer.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-4788103329485370720?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/4788103329485370720/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=4788103329485370720' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/4788103329485370720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/4788103329485370720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2010/05/diariamente_15.html' title='diariamente'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S-5ByxCvJtI/AAAAAAAABrM/YICtmfiP1TU/s72-c/foto+poeta.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-7852167018002207752</id><published>2010-05-15T07:04:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-15T07:28:50.415+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Primavera'/><title type='text'>diariamente</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S-455MdQddI/AAAAAAAABrE/xJL1syXUxqM/s1600/jacarand%C3%A1s.bmp"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471374252060997074" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S-455MdQddI/AAAAAAAABrE/xJL1syXUxqM/s320/jacarand%C3%A1s.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;   Hoje (28/04) levantei-me + bem disposta, mto embora esteja sempre preocupada com a minha doença crónica. Mas pronto. Acordei, agradeci a Deus a luz de + um dia, mas como acordei mto depois das 8h, já não fui à missa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;   Vi o meu correio electrónico e deparei que precisava de pagar a totalidade da minha ida a Barcelona. E pensei fazê-lo hoje.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;   Então arranjei-me e fui tratar desses assuntos. Repus 10€ na familiar e 712 € no INATEL.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;   Agora vim comer a minha torradinha, vestida já mto descapotavelmente e soube-me, como sempre, mto, mas mto bem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;  Também tenho que passar pela advogada. São 20 para as 11, ficarei aqui ainda mais um pouco e depois passarei por lá  a marcar consulta e pagar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;  À tarde, a partir das 15h terei comigo o Jorge. Faço isso com mto gosto. Embora saiba que é um grande risco. É uma criança de 1 ano e, nestas idades, são mto amorosos. Mto mais tarde é que são um pouco chatos. É o caso do Miguel. Anda há 3 anos na Escola e já aprendeu disparates demais.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;   Hoje, no parque, os jardineiros acertam a relva de carrinho. Acho--lhes piada! E o cheiro, para mim, é mto agradável. Estas passadeiras verdes do campo da Várzea descansam, alimentando a nossa mente. E apetece-me estar, estar, estar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;  Está mto calor, mas, no SABOREAR está fresquinho. O pior de tudo é a música alta destas colunas. Não havia necessidade!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-7852167018002207752?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/7852167018002207752/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=7852167018002207752' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/7852167018002207752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/7852167018002207752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2010/05/diariamente.html' title='diariamente'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S-455MdQddI/AAAAAAAABrE/xJL1syXUxqM/s72-c/jacarand%C3%A1s.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-5776839128259852226</id><published>2010-04-18T11:08:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-18T11:36:38.332+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S8rctOXfnaI/AAAAAAAABqE/diObVEzjyLg/s1600/vulc%C3%A3o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461420167649009058" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S8rctOXfnaI/AAAAAAAABqE/diObVEzjyLg/s320/vulc%C3%A3o.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S8rcjlqSBFI/AAAAAAAABp8/BEISAYiH1eA/s1600/cinzas+vulc%C3%A2nicas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461420002103133266" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S8rcjlqSBFI/AAAAAAAABp8/BEISAYiH1eA/s320/cinzas+vulc%C3%A2nicas.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E A NATUREZA FALOU... UMA VEZ MAIS.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De repente do gelo &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;surgiu fogo&lt;/span&gt; e tudo parou.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Extasiados com a beleza desta Natureza em fúria, fomos vendo, a pouco e pouco, como mandava em cada um de nós. E porque prendia as nossas vontades e como nos obrigava a pensar diferentemente, quase ignorávamos a sua incondicional beleza natural, para olharmos apenas para os prejuízos daí advindos. E aí o dinheiro falou mais alto. A necessidade de se continuar uma vida apenas interrompida pelos negócios ou alguns dias de férias, deu lugar a opções que, o foram por necessidade absoluta de cumprir compromissos. E a nossa rotina vital deu lugar a uma curva de 180º ou maior, para fugirmos a cinzas e a fogo que, indubitavelmente se sobrepuseram a este mundo, tão belo e perfeito como belo e perfeito são estes rugires naturais e intransponíveis. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;E a Europa parou um pouco para pensar, quão pequena é,&lt;/span&gt; quando manda a Natureza!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&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/6095208389756956188-5776839128259852226?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/5776839128259852226/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=5776839128259852226' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/5776839128259852226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/5776839128259852226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2010/04/e-natureza-falou.html' title=''/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S8rctOXfnaI/AAAAAAAABqE/diObVEzjyLg/s72-c/vulc%C3%A3o.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-3770221032766413943</id><published>2010-04-18T10:50:00.006+01:00</published><updated>2010-12-20T09:20:09.725Z</updated><title type='text'>Páscoa da Ressurreição</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S8rWL2-11iI/AAAAAAAABp0/7zIJ2XIOY3Q/s1600/festa-pascoa-jesus.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 284px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461412997366142498" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S8rWL2-11iI/AAAAAAAABp0/7zIJ2XIOY3Q/s320/festa-pascoa-jesus.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; E a tristeza da Quaresma grita agora alegria.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Jesus ressuscitou ALELUIA"!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do frio sepulcro jorrou a alegria da vida. Na imagem do jardineiro a quemMaria pergunta:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;_ Foste tu que O tiraste? Diz-nos onde O puseste ?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mas ela não O reconheceu, senão mais tarde.&lt;br /&gt;E quando isso aconteceu, correu a levar a notícia a todos. Duvidosos, precisaram de se encontrar com Ele no caminho para Cafarnaum. Precisaram de O reconhecer pelos jeitos e pela forma. Mesmo assim ainda houve quem duvidasse.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;_" SE não meter a minha mão nas suas chagas, não acreditarei".&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E até a esse e dessa maneira Deus se revelou admoestando-O:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"E não sejas incrédulo mas crente!".&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&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/6095208389756956188-3770221032766413943?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/3770221032766413943/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=3770221032766413943' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/3770221032766413943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/3770221032766413943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2010/04/pascoa-da-ressurreicao.html' title='Páscoa da Ressurreição'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S8rWL2-11iI/AAAAAAAABp0/7zIJ2XIOY3Q/s72-c/festa-pascoa-jesus.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-826396018031812096</id><published>2010-03-13T17:19:00.002Z</published><updated>2010-03-13T17:39:06.148Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S5vKaeumjtI/AAAAAAAABoE/Qw-b2Srvxo0/s1600-h/cam%C3%A9lia+rosa+147.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448170730508685010" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S5vKaeumjtI/AAAAAAAABoE/Qw-b2Srvxo0/s320/cam%C3%A9lia+rosa+147.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;QUARESMA DE 2010&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Já passeou o Senhor pelas ruas da cidade. Já se encontrou com sua MATER DOLOROSA. Já se ouviu a Paixão mas ainda falta um pouco para que tudo aconteça.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Vivo com imensa tristeza este tempo litúrgico. O reconhecer a nossa culpa nos horríveis sofrimentos do Senhor e não sermos capazes de nada fazer para o minimizar, é atroz. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pensarmos como foi possível tamanha maldade humana leva-nos ao sentimento que nos obriga a chorar e a perguntarmo-nos como fomos capazes.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;É Quaresma e tudo a pouco e pouco vai escurecendo para ficar noite e o véu do templo se rasgar às 15h de 6ª Feira Santa. Os altares estão nus e a tristeza dos Cristãos vai-se instalando. E a Paixão repete-se, com muita dor, todos os anos.&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/6095208389756956188-826396018031812096?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/826396018031812096/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=826396018031812096' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/826396018031812096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/826396018031812096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2010/03/quaresma-de-2010-ja-passeou-o-senhor.html' title=''/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S5vKaeumjtI/AAAAAAAABoE/Qw-b2Srvxo0/s72-c/cam%C3%A9lia+rosa+147.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-5901984843847613875</id><published>2010-02-28T08:27:00.002Z</published><updated>2010-02-28T08:44:51.668Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S4opNbD4C4I/AAAAAAAABn8/rRt9jaxMkKo/s1600-h/anima%C3%A7%C3%A3o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 221px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 166px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443208410209717122" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S4opNbD4C4I/AAAAAAAABn8/rRt9jaxMkKo/s320/anima%C3%A7%C3%A3o.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;                                                   CARNAVAL EM ARMAÇÃO DE PÊRA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Fui passar o Carnaval ao Hotel Vila Galé em Armação de Pêra. Não é que encontrei lá estes conterrâneos? E que feliz fiquei! Eles são uma simpatia e, vejam lá! Ela até me emprestou o marido para dançar. E fez-me um jeitão, já que adoro dançar, mas não levei par. Fui a única do grupo a fantasiar-me e, nem calculam o que me sinto de bem fingindo o que sou. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Acho que devemos viver com intensidade a época, pois se o calendário nos mostra o tempo e, se lhe obedecemos tanto, porque não vivê-lo? Assim, e porque vivo sózinha, procuro viver o dia  segundo as regras do tempo. Desta maneira procuro ser feliz a meu jeito, sem procurar desfazer a felicidade dos outros.&lt;br /&gt;E agarro-me a tudo quanto de bom a Natureza me dê. Uma camélia, um jarro branquinho ou um vaso de ciclames rosa. E o meu coração pula quando, por voluntariado ajudo alguém. Também isso é felicidade e eu quero ser feliz e sorrir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-5901984843847613875?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/5901984843847613875/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=5901984843847613875' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/5901984843847613875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/5901984843847613875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2010/02/carnaval-em-armacao-de-pera-fui-passar.html' title=''/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S4opNbD4C4I/AAAAAAAABn8/rRt9jaxMkKo/s72-c/anima%C3%A7%C3%A3o.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-6208042246684035007</id><published>2010-02-04T10:44:00.003Z</published><updated>2010-02-04T11:20:29.067Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S2qlWpyr5FI/AAAAAAAABnk/1E9VYU1x7Ao/s1600-h/coroa+de+natal.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434337708970075218" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S2qlWpyr5FI/AAAAAAAABnk/1E9VYU1x7Ao/s320/coroa+de+natal.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E hoje é dia de Natal. Vamos ver como se vai viver.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E foi assim. Após o p.a. fui procurar um quiosque para comprar uma revista. Apesar de ser o dia que é, consegui comprar a revista e um chapéu de chuva, pois tinha acabado de sepultar o outro. Fui para o bar li a revista acabada de comprar e deixei a outra já lida, para quem a precisasse. Depois de lhe dar uma vista de olhos fui à missa onde encontrei um pároco muito pouco audível, apesar de haver sistema sonoro, não funcionava capazmente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Depois um almoço de vitela de Lafões com batatas assadas. Gostei.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;De tarde fomos até ao Buçaco maravilharmo-nos com o Hotel Palácio, obra prima de arquitectura. Breve biografia do 1ºproprietário ALEXANDRE DE ALMEIDA. Tudo mto belo mas muito escondido do mundo.  Aliás este hotel n/ é para qualquer pessoa, antevendo o altíssimo luxo e beleza, de acordo com o exterior.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E pronto. Regressámos já de noite porque o dia é pequeníssimo nesta altura e sempre acompanhados de uma chuva de molha tolos mto, mas mto irritante.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E depois de um banho quentinho que me soube que nem ginjas, fez-se hora de jantar. Creme de cenoura e panados de perú c/ arroz de ervilhas. Por sobremesa aletria e estava tudo mto bom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Depois de comprar 1,5l de água, recolhi-me e fui ver TV até adormecer. E passou-se a noite e já é dia 26. Às 9.55h já vejo luz de esperança numa passadeira bem larga de azul celeste. E brilhou o Sol do nosso contentamento. A partir das 14h regressaremos às nossas casas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-6208042246684035007?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/6208042246684035007/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=6208042246684035007' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6208042246684035007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6208042246684035007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2010/02/e-hoje-e-dia-de-natal.html' title=''/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S2qlWpyr5FI/AAAAAAAABnk/1E9VYU1x7Ao/s72-c/coroa+de+natal.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-4764165580675368724</id><published>2010-01-21T09:42:00.003Z</published><updated>2010-01-21T09:53:53.507Z</updated><title type='text'>continuação da anterior</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S1gikdyDptI/AAAAAAAABnQ/H108xEat_VE/s1600-h/centro+comercial.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429127360660350674" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S1gikdyDptI/AAAAAAAABnQ/H108xEat_VE/s320/centro+comercial.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt; Continuando a célebre chuva era óbvio que não poderíamos passear pela cidade. Assim, fomos para um enorme Centro Comercial mto bem decorado e iluminado à época. E por lá passámos a tarde.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;Antes de jantar tomei um banho. Como tudo está mto aquecido e pouco ou nada andámos na rua, n/ há dúvida que transpiramos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;O jantar de couves com bacalhau e batatas, era o da tradição.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;Mais tarde tivemos uma mto boa Ceia com sonhos, filhós, bolo rei, aletria, tudo, tudo mto bom. Os enchidos e o presunto, de gritos. E não faltaram as rabanadas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;Faltou a todos a família.&lt;br /&gt;&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/6095208389756956188-4764165580675368724?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/4764165580675368724/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=4764165580675368724' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/4764165580675368724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/4764165580675368724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2010/01/continuacao-da-anterior.html' title='continuação da anterior'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/S1gikdyDptI/AAAAAAAABnQ/H108xEat_VE/s72-c/centro+comercial.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-2871990996657026379</id><published>2009-12-31T12:08:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-12-31T12:52:29.371Z</updated><title type='text'>Dia de Consoada</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Szybg70JWrI/AAAAAAAABmw/fOkCHprjMYY/s1600-h/P903034020090903_06.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421379041561762482" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Szybg70JWrI/AAAAAAAABmw/fOkCHprjMYY/s320/P903034020090903_06.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                      PALACE HOTEL   S. Pedro do Sul&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SzyUdKMvAYI/AAAAAAAABmo/x1crnoh--EY/s1600-h/christmas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 310px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421371280122118530" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SzyUdKMvAYI/AAAAAAAABmo/x1crnoh--EY/s320/christmas.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DIA DE CONSOADA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;"&gt;É manhã! Ainda chuvisca. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;"&gt;Passei a noite menos mal e vim ao pequeno almoço. Depois saí fui visitar a terra onde se situa o Hotel onde me instalei. Como isto é província, só 2 ou 3 comércios estavam abertos. Os cafés e os quiosques também trabalhavam. Chuva de "molha tolos" mta sede e o acabar com o guarda chuva. Fui à Igreja mto moderna mas bonita, rezei o terço contado p'las mãos e vim para o Hotel. Aproveitei para visitar na Net este meu blogue onde coloquei a minha 1ª crónica. Não a acabei, porque aqui há horas para tudo, mas concluílarei amanhã.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;"&gt;Já hoje consegui falar com o Manel que tem tudo destelhado e anda aflito. Até me disse que, ontem de manhã, apenas fez de caixa 40€. Para ele isto tudo é uma doença. Até ficou sem telemóvel, foi-me telefonando por outros que, para mim, eram desconhecidos e, por conseguinte, eu não atendia. Mas, por fim, lá nos conseguimos entender. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;"&gt;Almoçámos peixe grelhado e saímos para Viseu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-2871990996657026379?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/2871990996657026379/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=2871990996657026379' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/2871990996657026379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/2871990996657026379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/12/dia-de-consoada.html' title='Dia de Consoada'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Szybg70JWrI/AAAAAAAABmw/fOkCHprjMYY/s72-c/P903034020090903_06.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-3745066139531279031</id><published>2009-12-31T11:48:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-12-31T12:07:25.284Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='estadia'/><title type='text'>Natal (cont.)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SzyQDp1xrzI/AAAAAAAABmg/LtclSL9_r4o/s1600-h/anjo.bmp"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 272px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 316px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421366443892649778" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SzyQDp1xrzI/AAAAAAAABmg/LtclSL9_r4o/s320/anjo.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;São 18h e 32m e já me encontro no meu quarto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663366;"&gt;Um quarto de Hotel, mto diferente do meu, em S. Pedro do Sul onde vim passar o Natal. Este quarto vai ser meu durante os próximos 4 dias. E n/ é nada mau.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663366;"&gt;A viagem foi feita com algum sol tímido mas, a partir de Leiria deixou-nos completamente para dar lugar a um tecto cinzento ainda sem chuva. Mas quando cheguei a Aveiro, já chovia copiosamente. Daí para S. Pedro do Sul foi chuva até dizer chega.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663366;"&gt;Levantámos a chave do quarto na recepção e, depois de um banho quentinho e de arrumar as minhas coisas, apeteceu-me escrever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663366;"&gt;Até Aveiro, n/ tive companhia de autocarro, mas daí para S.Pedro calhou-me um simpático e gordito velhote com muito sabor a Norte.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663366;"&gt;Agora, daqui a pouco, temos o jantar. Costuma ser buffet. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663366;"&gt;Estou cansadita, a viagem foi longa. Tenho TV no quarto. Se der, verei o Malato e o seu concurso e darei conta do telefonema do Manel. Se não der dormirei. Assim Deus me dê uma boa noite, que a de ontem foi de alguma insónia por causa dos ventos ciclónicos que por aqui passaram.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663366;"&gt;Valeu a sua pouca duração.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-3745066139531279031?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/3745066139531279031/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=3745066139531279031' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/3745066139531279031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/3745066139531279031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/12/natal-cont.html' title='Natal (cont.)'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SzyQDp1xrzI/AAAAAAAABmg/LtclSL9_r4o/s72-c/anjo.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-5450036822090074478</id><published>2009-12-24T11:35:00.005Z</published><updated>2010-12-20T09:27:49.077Z</updated><title type='text'>ciclone</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Aniversário da Xana&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A Violência de um Acordar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Eram + ou - 4h da manhã. A minha casa, pelo som, era o fim do mundo. Das varandas voavam estendais, vasos com os respectivos pratos e telhas. Sentia-se um vento ciclónico capaz de tudo levar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Com este acordar até tive medo de me levantar da cama e ir ver o que se passava. Aguentei mais um pouco e, por fim, liguei a T V e vi um pouco de um filme para ver se me abstraía do zangado da Natureza.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;passado algum tempo e a pouco e pouco, tudo serenou. Mas já não consegui conciliar o sono. Ainda me sentia nervosa do susto do despertar. Sentia chuva e assim fiquei até às 8h da manhã. Aí tive mesmo que me levantar. A 1ª coisa que vi estragada foi o mosquiteiro do quarto. Com calma terei que o consertar, ou mandar cá alguém. Depois a minha varanda norte cujos vasos pareciam ter andado em rodopio. Terra e mais terra pelo chão; o tomateiro tro pical bem longe do sítio . Os vasos das hortenses tinham mudado de sítio para mais de 2 metros de distância. O vaso das tulipas, de pernas para o ar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Tudo se compôs, menos a roseira de Sta Teresinha, que, me parece, partida. Meu Deus!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Como a Natureza se revolta de quando em vez!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Do lado sul o estendal tinha voado e jazia, todo partido, no logradouro. Um vaso com um cactinho bonito mergulhara e estava de pernas ao ar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SzNSUbr89JI/AAAAAAAABmY/aDqCiUSfflk/s1600-h/Creek.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418765287639807122" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SzNSUbr89JI/AAAAAAAABmY/aDqCiUSfflk/s320/Creek.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Fui buscar o estendal para o colocar no contentor que, estando no sítio, permanecia totalmente escancarado. Até que foi mto fácil pô-lo lá dentro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E, perante este estado de coisas, desliguei água e gás e pus-me a caminho de Lisboa, para apanhar um autocarro que me levará até Aveiro e S. Pedro do Sul para um Natal diferente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Já estou em Lisboa, mas depois da madrugada passada, nem pensava chegar cá. Tomei um café, redigi esta crónica e, daqui a pouco, irei de táxi para Sete Rios.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Este Inverno entrou em pleno, Deus nos ajude! Por um lado, como vou rumar a Norte, gostaria de encontrar paisagens nevadas, que na estrada , não.Por outro lado o desejo de fazer boa viagem é tão grande que, falar em neve , me mete medo. Até logo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Hoje é&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;NATAL destas lembranças&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Natal do meu viver&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Natal destas crianças&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Natal p'ra conviver.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Hoje é&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;NATAL do Deus Menino&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Natal desta canção&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Natal que canta hinos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Natal dos meus irmãos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Hoje é&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;NATAL multiplicado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Natal algo sofrido&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Natal muito amado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Natal deste sorriso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Hoje é&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;NATAL tocam os sinos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Natal de um presépio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Natal de violinos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Natal um obséquio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-5450036822090074478?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/5450036822090074478/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=5450036822090074478' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/5450036822090074478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/5450036822090074478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/12/ciclone.html' title='ciclone'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SzNSUbr89JI/AAAAAAAABmY/aDqCiUSfflk/s72-c/Creek.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-159372881372722771</id><published>2009-12-16T18:36:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-12-16T18:43:31.808Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Advento'/><title type='text'>O Advento</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sykp75gVyzI/AAAAAAAABmA/1w2mAu8vEDQ/s1600-h/mais+natal.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 263px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415906135915219762" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sykp75gVyzI/AAAAAAAABmA/1w2mAu8vEDQ/s320/mais+natal.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SykpJ-aCFCI/AAAAAAAABl4/IpKO5dEHl-I/s1600-h/anjo.bmp"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 303px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415905278237479970" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SykpJ-aCFCI/AAAAAAAABl4/IpKO5dEHl-I/s320/anjo.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Aqui está o arauto da mensagem. Encaminha os reis com a sua estrela e sussurra a todos nós a GRANDE NOTÍCIA.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-159372881372722771?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/159372881372722771/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=159372881372722771' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/159372881372722771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/159372881372722771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/12/o-advento.html' title='O Advento'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sykp75gVyzI/AAAAAAAABmA/1w2mAu8vEDQ/s72-c/mais+natal.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-8951332368203109159</id><published>2009-12-02T17:19:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-12-02T17:48:12.826Z</updated><title type='text'>BOM DIA</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sxal9_6LjII/AAAAAAAABlI/b4QOhv50iUw/s1600-h/festa-pascoa-jesus.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 284px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410694486878293122" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sxal9_6LjII/AAAAAAAABlI/b4QOhv50iUw/s320/festa-pascoa-jesus.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"&gt;Quando te levantaste pela manhã, já tinha preparado o sol para aquecer o teu dia e o alimento para a tua nutrição. Sim, eu preparei tudo isso enquanto vigiava o teu sonho, a tua família, a tua casa. Esperei pelo teu bom dia, mas esqueceste-te.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"&gt;Bem... Parecias ter tanta pressa! Eu perdoei!...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"&gt;O sol apareceu, as flores deram o seu perfume, a brisa da manhã acompanhou-te e tu nem pensaste que fui Eu que preparei tudo para ti. Os teus familiares sorriam, os teus colegas cumprimentaram-te, trabalhaste, estudaste, viajaste, realizaste negócios, alcançaste vitórias, mas ... não percebeste que Eu estava cooperando contigo e, mais teria feito, se Me tivesses pedido. Eu sei, corres tanto!... Eu perdoei! ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"&gt;Leste bastante, ouviste e viste muita coisa, mas não tiveste tempo de ler e ouvir a Minha Palavra. Quis falar contigo, mas não paraste para ouvir. Quis aconselhar-te, mas nem pensaste nessa possibilidade... Se me ouvisses, tudo seria melhor na tua vida. Mais uma vez te esqueceste de Mim. esqueceste-te que eu desejo a tua participação no meu Reino, com a tua vida, o teu tempo, os teus talentos!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"&gt;FINDOU O TEU DIA!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"&gt;VOLTASTE PARA CASA!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"&gt;Mandei a lua e as estrelas tornarem a noite mais bela, para te lembrar o amor que tenho por ti!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"&gt;Certamente, agora, vais dizer-me obrigado e boa noite !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"&gt;Psiu... estás a ouvir-me? Que pena, já adormeceste! Boa noite! Dorme bem! Ficarei a velar por ti!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"&gt;E quando, enfim, quiseres saber quem sou, pergunta ao riacho que murmura e ao pássaro que canta, à flor que desabrocha e à estrela que cintila, ao moço que espera e ao velho que recorda... Chamo-me AMOR, o remédio para todos os males que te atormentam o espírito: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"&gt;EU SOU JESUS&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/6095208389756956188-8951332368203109159?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/8951332368203109159/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=8951332368203109159' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/8951332368203109159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/8951332368203109159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/12/bom-dia.html' title='BOM DIA'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sxal9_6LjII/AAAAAAAABlI/b4QOhv50iUw/s72-c/festa-pascoa-jesus.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-5159946166518012082</id><published>2009-12-02T16:57:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-12-02T17:19:14.002Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pensando'/><title type='text'>Hospital do Senhor</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;Fui ao Hospital do Senhor fazer um &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;check&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;up&lt;/span&gt; de rotina e constatei que estava doente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;Quando Jesus mediu a minha tensão, verificou 40º de egoísmo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;Fiz um &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;electrocardiograma&lt;/span&gt; e foi &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;diagnosticado&lt;/span&gt; que necessitava de uma ponte de amor, pois a minha veia estava bloqueada e não abastecia o meu vazio coração.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;Passei pela ortopedia, pois estava com dificuldades de andar lado a lado com o meu irmão e não conseguia abraçá-lo por ter fracturado o braço, ao tropeçar na minha vaidade,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;Constatou-se miopia pois não conseguia enxergar além da aparência. Queixei-me de não poder ouvi-lo e &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;diagnosticou&lt;/span&gt; bloqueio em r&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ecorrência&lt;/span&gt; das palavras vazias do dia a dia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;Obrigada Senhor, por não me teres cobrado a consulta, pela tua grande &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;misericórdia&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;Prometo, ao sair daqui, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;somente&lt;/span&gt; usar remédios naturais, que me indicaste e que estão no receituário do teu evangelho.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;Vou tomar, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;diariamente&lt;/span&gt; ao levantar, chá de agradecimento, ao chegar ao trabalho beber uma colher de sopa de bom dia e, de hora a hora, um comprimido de paciência, num copo de humildade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-5159946166518012082?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/5159946166518012082/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=5159946166518012082' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/5159946166518012082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/5159946166518012082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/12/hospital-do-senhor.html' title='Hospital do Senhor'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-5756950635506648879</id><published>2009-11-21T14:36:00.005Z</published><updated>2009-11-21T15:54:04.656Z</updated><title type='text'>VIagens ainda</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SwgGB4PTenI/AAAAAAAABlA/KswpsKEhsa8/s1600/P.S.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 218px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406577982004492914" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SwgGB4PTenI/AAAAAAAABlA/KswpsKEhsa8/s320/P.S.3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;3º Dia 2ª Feira 9 do 11 Ainda Porto Santo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;As fotos estão aí.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sinto-me bem. Mas, a localização dos aposentos continua a apertar-me.Sinto-me cheia de claustrofobia. Então, meto-me no autocarro ( que é aquele bus da foto atrás) e corro para o Centro.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mandei revelar umas fotos e, enquanto sim e não, fui à igreja da Piedade e rezei o terço. Foi lá que encontrei uma bela "Ceia de Cristo". Aí está o chão do seu recinto de entrada.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;À saída descobri um espaço Internet. Entrei e passei para aqui as crónicas dos dois primeiros dias. E adorei. De regresso, fui buscar as fotos e, devagar devaga- rinho, fui até à praia. Arregacei as calças, tirei a malha e passeei um pouco pelo areal. Estive por lá algum tempo e depois vim beber uma água numa esplanada , enquanto esperava pelo autocarro de regresso.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;E, desta vez, apanhei um autocarro enorme que, para ir para o Hotel deu uma enorme volta, até foi buscar os miúdos à Escola e transportou-os a casa. Pára aqui, pára ali, um trajecto que se faria em 5m , levou meia hora, mas foi um passeio .&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Comi uma sopa no bar e fui comer a fruta ao quarto.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Vesti o fato de banho, uns calções e uma Tshirt, havaianas nos pés, uma toalha e aí vou eu para a praia.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Compridíssima, com uma areia cheia de propriedades terapêuticas, um mar morninho e de encanto, como mostram as fotos atrás. Deitei-me sobre a toalha e quase apostava ficar aí algum tempo. Mas, por azar, levantou-se um vento frio ao qual não resisti muito. E voltei para o quarto onde lanchei, vi TV e, depois de me lavar lá me arranjei para o jantar. Meu Deus!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Outra vez massa" com uma febra,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt; desta vez.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mas que esperarei eu? Esta ilha nada produz&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;! &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Não se vê uma horta, nem uma árvore de&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;fruto! Porque não chove, esta ilha é inóspita. Até arrepiante. Aquelas grandes montanhas negras e bem rochosas, completamente rapadas de verde, encheram-me de tristeza. Como resiste esta gente? Será muito, mas muito amor à sua ilha?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Gente c/ tanto valor mas que, dificilmente, fazem ali uma carreira de futuro. Alguns vivem da Hotelaria e restauração, outros dos serviços e do pequeníssimo comércio ali existente.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De resto, a temperatura na ilha é fenomenal. Não apanhei muito sol, mas mesmo c/ o tempo nublado, andei sempre de Tshirt sem mangas e umas havaianas nos pés.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E pronto, fui dormir, mas antes ainda vi o Malato no concurso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-5756950635506648879?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/5756950635506648879/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=5756950635506648879' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/5756950635506648879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/5756950635506648879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/11/viagens-ainda.html' title='VIagens ainda'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SwgGB4PTenI/AAAAAAAABlA/KswpsKEhsa8/s72-c/P.S.3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-2275486791369535442</id><published>2009-11-18T13:37:00.012Z</published><updated>2009-11-18T13:48:40.638Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Porto Santo'/><title type='text'>Viagens</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SwP6lL80_6I/AAAAAAAABk4/-3cgU4ga1yw/s1600/P.S.8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405439494544752546" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SwP6lL80_6I/AAAAAAAABk4/-3cgU4ga1yw/s320/P.S.8.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SwP6aVnEwKI/AAAAAAAABkw/eVD7NDn5H_0/s1600/P.S.7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 218px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405439308159303842" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SwP6aVnEwKI/AAAAAAAABkw/eVD7NDn5H_0/s320/P.S.7.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SwP6Nyot8lI/AAAAAAAABko/gmSNwd9nZUw/s1600/P.S.6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 218px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405439092612526674" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SwP6Nyot8lI/AAAAAAAABko/gmSNwd9nZUw/s320/P.S.6.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SwP6EcORirI/AAAAAAAABkg/xpJHKZt14Nk/s1600/P.S.4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 220px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405438931977210546" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SwP6EcORirI/AAAAAAAABkg/xpJHKZt14Nk/s320/P.S.4.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SwP53_Wu6JI/AAAAAAAABkY/yeoI-uS5m_0/s1600/P.S.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 218px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405438718069631122" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SwP53_Wu6JI/AAAAAAAABkY/yeoI-uS5m_0/s320/P.S.3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SwP5sp-fprI/AAAAAAAABkQ/0GQmlP31Mf0/s1600/P.S.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 233px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405438523352262322" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SwP5sp-fprI/AAAAAAAABkQ/0GQmlP31Mf0/s320/P.S.2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SwP5hwPljhI/AAAAAAAABkI/FummFol8D_o/s1600/Lu%C3%ADsa+em+P.S..jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 219px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405438336056004114" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SwP5hwPljhI/AAAAAAAABkI/FummFol8D_o/s320/Lu%C3%ADsa+em+P.S..jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SwP5Y4reHnI/AAAAAAAABkA/-aDQxrB5tTs/s1600/Eu+em+P.S..jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 220px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405438183701618290" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SwP5Y4reHnI/AAAAAAAABkA/-aDQxrB5tTs/s320/Eu+em+P.S..jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SwP5B3xm_PI/AAAAAAAABj4/sNjVFoSl9W0/s1600/Casa+Colombo+P.S.9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 247px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405437788321938674" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SwP5B3xm_PI/AAAAAAAABj4/sNjVFoSl9W0/s320/Casa+Colombo+P.S.9.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;PORTO SANTO Fotos&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Museu de Porto Santo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Casa Colombo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-2275486791369535442?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/2275486791369535442/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=2275486791369535442' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/2275486791369535442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/2275486791369535442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/11/viagens_18.html' title='Viagens'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SwP6lL80_6I/AAAAAAAABk4/-3cgU4ga1yw/s72-c/P.S.8.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-6886588953095072145</id><published>2009-11-09T10:40:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-11-09T11:13:07.475Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viagens'/><title type='text'>Viagens</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663333;"&gt;2º Dia em Porto Santo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Nota:&lt;/span&gt;Gostaria de colocar algumas fotos nestes textos, mas a digital pifou, tirei fotos com uma descartável que está, neste momento, a revelar. Aparecerão mais tarde.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663333;"&gt;Dormi muitíssimo bem. Acordei por volta das 8 ao som de tiros de caçadeira, muito latido de cães e muito movimento estranho.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663333;"&gt;Fiz a minha higiene diária e, por volta das 9 e... estava a tomar um pobrezinho pequeno almoço. Café com leite e pão com manteiga, pouco mais.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663333;"&gt;Subi a escada e vim beber a minha biquinha deliciosa com sabor a " sopa de letras" na sala de estar do Hotel, até às 11h. Fui, então, ao quarto preparar-me e saí para apanhar o autocarro para o Centro. Fui ouvir missa à Igreja da Piedade e, por fim fui ver a CASA MUSEU DE PORTO SANTO que homenageia Cristóvão Colombo como um habitante e proprietário dessa casa durante a sua permanência nesta ilha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663333;"&gt;E almocei no Solar do Infante, um belo de um ensopado de borrego com arroz branco. Como entrada comi bolo do caco com manteiga de alho e salsa. Apenas uma delícia destas ilhas. E não gostei da sobremesa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663333;"&gt;Depois o circuito da ilha. Lá fui, tirei umas fotos, mas não encontrei a verdura dos Açores ou mesmo da Madeira. A ilha é inóspita, de alturas completamente rapadas e, como única vegetação cactos bonitos, ou qualquer planta resistente à falta de chuva existente aqui. Porque aqui não chove . E continuo dizendo Meu Deus!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663333;"&gt;Terei que digitalizar as fotos. Estou em 2, tiradas por um serôdio companheiro de passeio. E... a propósito de serôdios, sempre vos quero dizer que vieram alguns casais desses, talvez em 2ªs ou 3ªs núpcias. De registar, não acham? É que a atracção sexual não morre nunca, o amor? Esse não sei que diga! Esta zona foi sempre muito propensa para "maravilhas de ajustamento humano". Às vezes  até aparecem nas Agências grandes promoções para o efeito. Se o bolo do caco ou o de mel de cana ajudam? É capaz, pelo menos o de mel de cana é bem docinho e agradável. E acompanhado de uma poncha? Nem sei que diga, é afrodisíaco.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663333;"&gt;Aliás, tudo nestas ilhas convida ao amor. Tudo, porque estou em Porto Santo, um pouco desiludida com falta de verde, mas encantada pela areia da praia e por este Atlântico de sonho.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663333;"&gt;E fui jantar bacalhau com natas e pêssego de calda.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663333;"&gt;Até amanhã.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-6886588953095072145?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/6886588953095072145/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=6886588953095072145' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6886588953095072145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6886588953095072145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/11/viagens.html' title='Viagens'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-1143120808167209187</id><published>2009-11-09T10:20:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-11-09T10:39:47.044Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viagens'/><title type='text'>Porto Santo viagem</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;1º Dia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;Meu Deus! Por pouco não perdi o avião.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;Mandaram-me ir para o terminal 2, ou seja, para os voos domésticos. Não é que não sabia onde era? Como vi chegar a hora e de pessoas nem viv'alma, lembrei-me de me ir informar. E continuo a dizer, Meu Deus! Tinha que tomar um autocarro, e demoraria quase 10m a chegar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;e pronto. Depois tudo correu bem e às 10h estávamos em Porto Santo. E às 11 num Hotel num perfeito deserto, mas muito perto da praia e do mar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;Deitei as mãos à cabeça e tornei a dizer: - Meu Deus!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;Tentei acalmar e subi ao meu quarto. Que não era só quarto. Era também uma simpática salinha com sofás, T.V. e até frigorífico. Um WC pequeno mas limpinho, uns turcos muito limpos e bons. GOSTEI.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;Lavei-me, mudei de roupa, e fui para a rua saber como deixar este deserto. Fui para uma paragem de autocarro e passado algum tempo, lá fui eu para o Centro. Andando nas minhas descobertas, encontrei um Pingo Doce e entrei por bolo do caco ou do de mel de cana de que gosto muito. Comprei umas bananas e maçãs que me apeteceram e 2 garrafitas de água, cada uma por 0,07 cêntimos. Incrível.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;E dei conta de um miminho do Manel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;E dei conta de um miminho do Miguel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;O jantar foi de massa fuzilli com panados (porco? ou perú?) e salada de fruta. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;E fui dormir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-1143120808167209187?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/1143120808167209187/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=1143120808167209187' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/1143120808167209187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/1143120808167209187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/11/porto-santo-viagem.html' title='Porto Santo viagem'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-9169348995619987402</id><published>2009-10-27T12:03:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-10-27T12:22:33.701Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Subh78OlT9I/AAAAAAAABjY/5aslkE4TY-4/s1600-h/foto+poeta.bmp"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 158px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397249623345942482" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Subh78OlT9I/AAAAAAAABjY/5aslkE4TY-4/s320/foto+poeta.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; OUTRO DIA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;pus o Miguel na &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;escolinha&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Arrisquei, como risco é tudo quanto na vida se faz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Entrei na cabeleireira, mas pouco tempo lá estive. Esperar por esperar, marquei hora e irei lá para as 11 h .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E vim ao Sabor&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;e&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;ar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;À saída do carro dei conta das minhas calças enxovalhadas. Mas saí de casa limpa. Nem dei conta de me sujar.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Soube-me bem a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;torradinha&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;molhadinha&lt;/span&gt; em café ao som (quase violento) de uma música de pum pum pum, mas regada com um fresquíssimo ar de relva acabada de cortar. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;O céu faz contraste com a Terra pintada de muito calor amarelo e verde. Nesta altura não será muito natural mas quem influenciará este ambiente? Agradável é, mas não natural. E, daqui a pouco, vou quase rapar o meu cabelo. Sentir-me-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ei&lt;/span&gt; bastante mais leve e mudo, pronto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Depois almoçarei roupa velha, mas farei uma sopinha. Faz-me falta . Às vezes até ao lanche me apetece uma. E ao jantar, às vezes, como só sopa e fruta. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;De tarde irei ler ou ver televisão, ou então passar a ferro. Mas com este calor é muito difícil.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-9169348995619987402?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/9169348995619987402/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=9169348995619987402' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/9169348995619987402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/9169348995619987402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/10/outro-dia-pus-o-miguel-na-escolinha.html' title=''/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Subh78OlT9I/AAAAAAAABjY/5aslkE4TY-4/s72-c/foto+poeta.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-5161524626164608514</id><published>2009-10-27T11:42:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-10-27T12:01:56.629Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Férias'/><title type='text'>Férias</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;                    Férias... EU&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;não procuro praia, vou para o campo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;não oiço mar, entendo passarinhos&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;p'&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ra&lt;/span&gt; nada estou em filas, tenho paz&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;não cumpro horários, tenho o tempo todo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;p'&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ra&lt;/span&gt; nada corro, até consigo ler.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;não sou surpreendida com areia, oiço idosos&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;até a convivência eu evito, anseio solidão&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;transformo a esplanada em campina&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;e a minha bica, em água bem &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;fresquinha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;o meu sofá arranjo-o nesta pedra&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;não vou à praça, dão-me umas alfaces&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;deixei o carro, corro à descoberta&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;no meu silêncio, oiço aquele jacto&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;sem movimentos descanso melhor&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;evito a TV e oiço música&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;da incompreensão ausculto um ser&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;as montras , troco-as p'lo viver&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;e a urbana poluição, por matutino e limpo ar.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Aos prédios chamo-lhes pobres vivendas&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;o alcatrão vira, para mim, carreiro&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;até a água eu vou buscar à fonte&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;recuso abrir torneiras de pressão&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;banho-me no rio, vejo peixes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;troco fogo de gás pela lareira&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;e o trem &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;inox&lt;/span&gt; pelo ferro da panela.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;o templo fechado vira céu aberto&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;o carrilhão é aqui Avé Maria&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;do frigorífico faço um bom mosqueiro&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;até a luz fraca da vela me alumia.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Assim consigo férias bem a modo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;sem esperas &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;infindas&lt;/span&gt; nem demoras&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;com todo o tempo do mundo faço tudo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;na lentidão de quem não sente as horas.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Luísa Fonseca&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-5161524626164608514?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/5161524626164608514/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=5161524626164608514' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/5161524626164608514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/5161524626164608514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/10/ferias.html' title='Férias'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-1584620676249221267</id><published>2009-10-06T19:24:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T19:47:12.249+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Ode</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SsuME536e3I/AAAAAAAABiw/Kjd_fG7I1X4/s1600-h/espiritual.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389555394961636210" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SsuME536e3I/AAAAAAAABiw/Kjd_fG7I1X4/s320/espiritual.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#996633;"&gt;Para ser grande, sê intenso; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#996633;"&gt;nada teu exagera ou exclui.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#996633;"&gt;Sê todo em cada coisa. Põe quanto és&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#996633;"&gt;no mínimo que fazes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#996633;"&gt;Assim, em cada lago a lua toda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#996633;"&gt;brilha, porque alta vive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-1584620676249221267?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/1584620676249221267/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=1584620676249221267' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/1584620676249221267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/1584620676249221267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/10/autopsicografia.html' title='Ode'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SsuME536e3I/AAAAAAAABiw/Kjd_fG7I1X4/s72-c/espiritual.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-7704066615362784853</id><published>2009-10-06T12:47:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T12:55:20.919+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Por aniversário</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SssuyYuzQuI/AAAAAAAABiA/o2jM2DYrf58/s1600-h/animal+quotidiano.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389452822246015714" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SssuyYuzQuI/AAAAAAAABiA/o2jM2DYrf58/s320/animal+quotidiano.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt; És a lua crescente com teus braços de berço&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;a tua fala o luar branca prudente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;súbito lago transparente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;Arrancar-me de mim em barcos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;navegar tuas águas generosas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;viajar-te em jardins cobrindo-te de rosas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;Os remos são asas dos anjos que acendi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;os dedos flutuantes são lírios para ti.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;Cisne calculado no teu sonho de astro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;rasgo a noite nua com gaivotas na alma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;e âncoras na lua.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;Mª Almira Medina&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-7704066615362784853?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/7704066615362784853/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=7704066615362784853' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/7704066615362784853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/7704066615362784853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/10/por-aniversario.html' title='Por aniversário'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SssuyYuzQuI/AAAAAAAABiA/o2jM2DYrf58/s72-c/animal+quotidiano.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-4002805525980044834</id><published>2009-10-02T12:50:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T12:57:27.144+01:00</updated><title type='text'>para o Dia Mundial da Criança</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SsXphfRSKSI/AAAAAAAABh4/d_2mwNXkavc/s1600-h/ninos+12meses+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387969290757613858" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SsXphfRSKSI/AAAAAAAABh4/d_2mwNXkavc/s320/ninos+12meses+007.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                    &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;         Eu queria...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;Eu queria o mundo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;com todos do mesmo lado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;Se não há jardins para todos,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;Vou dividir os canteiros.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;Se os canteiros não chegarem,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;uma flor para cada um,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;e se as flores forem poucas,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;há pétalas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;Enfim! Há cheiro...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;Mas todos terão igual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-4002805525980044834?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/4002805525980044834/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=4002805525980044834' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/4002805525980044834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/4002805525980044834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/10/para-o-dia-mundial-da-crianca.html' title='para o Dia Mundial da Criança'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SsXphfRSKSI/AAAAAAAABh4/d_2mwNXkavc/s72-c/ninos+12meses+007.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-272159213284844165</id><published>2009-10-02T12:36:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T12:49:59.155+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Uma noite...Um sonho...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SsXo0jcPIRI/AAAAAAAABhw/-Sv3rqG5vKk/s1600-h/infantil.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 278px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 282px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387968518783181074" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SsXo0jcPIRI/AAAAAAAABhw/-Sv3rqG5vKk/s320/infantil.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A ouvir o rouxinol, adormeci.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E não tardei a sonhar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Numa casa altiva e bela morava. Tão cheio de calor e amor, que não calculas! De vez em quando tocava o meu coração com o de outro ser, onde eu, encantado, vivia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Aquela casa, era o meu castelo e eu era o seu rei. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Vivia feliz mas, queria crescer, crescer ainda mais; queria alargar o meu reinado ao mundo; e... um dia...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Um dia, sem pensar, abri a porta do meu confortável ninho e vim passear. A luz do dia e o frio do mundo fizeram-me estremecer. Então, abri os meus olhitos pequenitos, gritei como que a chamar por ti e... ACORDEI.&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/6095208389756956188-272159213284844165?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/272159213284844165/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=272159213284844165' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/272159213284844165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/272159213284844165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/10/uma-noiteum-sonho.html' title='Uma noite...Um sonho...'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SsXo0jcPIRI/AAAAAAAABhw/-Sv3rqG5vKk/s72-c/infantil.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-8944140646761941470</id><published>2009-07-14T17:17:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T17:28:26.076+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Os lobos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Slyv5N4jVUI/AAAAAAAABWM/mYMkuezgSg4/s1600-h/lim%C3%A3o+galego.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358351054178309442" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Slyv5N4jVUI/AAAAAAAABWM/mYMkuezgSg4/s320/lim%C3%A3o+galego.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Slyvx3ABDGI/AAAAAAAABWE/2Q9cLfBz7ao/s1600-h/uvas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358350927776517218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 98px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 139px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Slyvx3ABDGI/AAAAAAAABWE/2Q9cLfBz7ao/s320/uvas.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;É incrível a maneira como tudo corre para a compra dos alimentos!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mal comparado, parecem lobos famintos procurando presa. Nessa ânsia, simplesmente vale tudo. Atropelam-se mutuamente, não sei se com medo que os produtos acabem, se têm filhos pequenos a chorar em casa, não sei... Verdadeiramente &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;não&lt;/span&gt; sei para quê tanta correria transformada em aflição.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E de um lado para o outro parecemos &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;formiguinhas&lt;/span&gt;, mas não correndo em filas, vamos ao Deus dará para tudo quanto é sítio. Tudo isto porque se come. Em tempo de crise, se pudéssemos viver do ar!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Neste momento deu-me uma de espirros e &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;catrapuz&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E pronto. Lá vamos andando ao sabor de tudo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&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/6095208389756956188-8944140646761941470?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/8944140646761941470/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=8944140646761941470' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/8944140646761941470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/8944140646761941470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/07/os-lobos.html' title='Os lobos'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Slyv5N4jVUI/AAAAAAAABWM/mYMkuezgSg4/s72-c/lim%C3%A3o+galego.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-4885475795756710207</id><published>2009-05-05T11:52:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T17:59:59.130+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Brincadeiras'/><title type='text'>Brincadeiras</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SgAa2An5NaI/AAAAAAAABS4/Iipi6RI0VW0/s1600-h/roca+de+velha.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332291473989252514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SgAa2An5NaI/AAAAAAAABS4/Iipi6RI0VW0/s320/roca+de+velha.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Roca de Velha&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Tenho como brincadeiras as malandrices que, eu acho, me fazem. Digo e repito acho, já que nas intenções das pessoas eu não consigo entrar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E passo a falar na recente brincadeira que fizeram comigo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;No dia 5 de Setembro p.p. houve uma Assembleia Geral de Condóminos, na qual ficou decidido, entre outras coisas, que se mandaria pintar o prédio. Entre outras coisas, disse à representante da reunião que não mandasse fazer qualquer obra sem ter o dinheiro na mão. Foi-me respondido que sim, que nem outra coisa poderia ser feita. No fim da reunião pedi à representante da Administração, que redigisse a acta. Foi-me respondido que não tinha tempo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;No dia seguinte apresentei-me nos escritórios da Administração, a propósito da acta. Depois de mais de uma hora de espera a representante da Administração não apareceu. Falei com a advogada que a contactou nesse sentido e a quem ela, por fax, que tenha em minha posse, respondeu que tinha um mês para a fazer. Passados 9 meses a acta ainda não apareceu, nem foi assinada por qualquer condómino.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Entretanto e sem qualquer aviso, alguém, que não a Administração  mandou fazer as obras. Quando vi os homens no nosso espaço, eu fiquei para morrer, mas nada disse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Agora com as obras feitas, vem-me pedir o dinheiro! De quê? perguntei. Não me lembro de ter assinado qualquer compromisso com obras !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Quanto às despesas mensais de condomínio, telefonei para lá 2 vezes, uma em Setembro e outra em Dezembro dizendo para me receber pois queria pagar e nunca tiveram disponibilidade para me receberem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Acontece que agora eu não tenho dinheiro, porque tive que pagar prioritariamente outras coisas. E não me parece que me possam exigir dinheiro de obras. O resto não é tanto assim e quando puder, pagá-lo-ei.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-4885475795756710207?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/4885475795756710207/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=4885475795756710207' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/4885475795756710207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/4885475795756710207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/05/brincadeiras.html' title='Brincadeiras'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SgAa2An5NaI/AAAAAAAABS4/Iipi6RI0VW0/s72-c/roca+de+velha.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-6116755735660365416</id><published>2009-04-25T10:51:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T11:16:52.073+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Primavera'/><title type='text'>Uma nova Primavera</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SfLd3byaMtI/AAAAAAAABSY/lvhGKi655Wg/s1600-h/tapetev+de+flores.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328565253554451154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SfLd3byaMtI/AAAAAAAABSY/lvhGKi655Wg/s320/tapetev+de+flores.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;           09.04.21&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;        Acordou cinzento &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;este&lt;/span&gt; meu despertar. A vida, descobri-a no cantar redobrado de um rouxinol que mora bem perto e cedo acordou.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Bendisse&lt;/span&gt; o dia que, mais uma vez, venceu a escuridão silenciosa da noite.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;        Fez-me bem um duche morno na expectativa de sair de casa, pois, em breve, (suponho) brincarei com o sol.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;        Não renovei toilete e, num pulo, estou na rua. O meu carro passou a noite ao relento e está húmido de cabeça. Mas nunca diz que não à minha vontade. E lá vou eu, às vezes sem destino, mas procurando, na real, o sonho que me ocupou de noite. E tudo é verde dourado e tudo brilha de cumprimento amistoso para o começo de um novo dia. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;        Na rua, um pequeno almoço de tosta de queijo com café, espraiando olhares de grande verdura e perfume. Nada bole, a calma é muito extensa. Até o céu, deixou de ter as célebres manchas que nos atormentam de todo, ficou azul. A neblina continua, mas talvez se vá dissipando aos poucos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;        Como me sabe bem este lugar! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;        Como é bom estar aqui!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-6116755735660365416?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/6116755735660365416/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=6116755735660365416' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6116755735660365416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6116755735660365416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/04/uma-nova-primavera.html' title='Uma nova Primavera'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SfLd3byaMtI/AAAAAAAABSY/lvhGKi655Wg/s72-c/tapetev+de+flores.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-1284468737314702</id><published>2009-04-09T11:04:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T11:15:36.121+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ressurreição     Páscoa'/><title type='text'>Ressurreição</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sd3IaithAKI/AAAAAAAABR4/mPRtMpKl19g/s1600-h/festa-pascoa-jesus.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322630692941660322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 284px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sd3IaithAKI/AAAAAAAABR4/mPRtMpKl19g/s320/festa-pascoa-jesus.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#000099;"&gt;Páscoa RESSURREIÇÃO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Cristo ressuscitou ALELUIA! AALELUIIA!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Apesar dos folares, dos chocolates e das amêndoas, precisamos de Cristo ressuscitado a viver connosco. Demos-lhe a oportunidade de entrar nas nossas almas lavadas de pecado, limpas de quaisquer males.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Bem vindo, Senhor! Aguardava-te há muito. Senta-te e fica, fica comigo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#000099;"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-1284468737314702?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/1284468737314702/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=1284468737314702' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/1284468737314702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/1284468737314702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/04/ressurreicao.html' title='Ressurreição'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sd3IaithAKI/AAAAAAAABR4/mPRtMpKl19g/s72-c/festa-pascoa-jesus.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-4104245920286259793</id><published>2009-03-09T14:41:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-03-09T14:57:43.298Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cheguei'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='consegui'/><title type='text'>Cheguei, consegui</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SbUuUokLrnI/AAAAAAAABPA/UGIiGKdeQus/s1600-h/marinheira+eu.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311202267574808178" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SbUuUokLrnI/AAAAAAAABPA/UGIiGKdeQus/s320/marinheira+eu.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-3ac6b03438c06ee0" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v8.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D3ac6b03438c06ee0%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331327883%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D7DB480C0DA0485CDBEADC5A8D73F89FCD4DAC546.F85E252A8ED4D80C7919552F3C245922798CC4B%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D3ac6b03438c06ee0%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DEmjkRyliNy9xyyNu7-m5DzDbV10&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v8.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D3ac6b03438c06ee0%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331327883%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D7DB480C0DA0485CDBEADC5A8D73F89FCD4DAC546.F85E252A8ED4D80C7919552F3C245922798CC4B%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D3ac6b03438c06ee0%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DEmjkRyliNy9xyyNu7-m5DzDbV10&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Passean&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;do à beira-mar, ouvindo gaivotas, sons &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;que, cada vez mais me trazem para o Oceano. Hoje, estava calmo; trazia sobre ele umas traineiras, não vi qualquer urso, mas só consegui-lo gravar aqui, já foi conquista valiosa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-4104245920286259793?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=3ac6b03438c06ee0&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/4104245920286259793/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=4104245920286259793' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/4104245920286259793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/4104245920286259793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/03/cheguei-consegui.html' title='Cheguei, consegui'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SbUuUokLrnI/AAAAAAAABPA/UGIiGKdeQus/s72-c/marinheira+eu.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-4394680163149060174</id><published>2009-02-12T14:57:00.006Z</published><updated>2009-02-15T12:04:52.849Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dia dos namorados'/><title type='text'>Dia dos namorados</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SZQ91DTvk8I/AAAAAAAABMM/ZIewbCzSbL4/s1600-h/rosa+lil%C3%A1s.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301930642952393666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SZQ91DTvk8I/AAAAAAAABMM/ZIewbCzSbL4/s320/rosa+lil%C3%A1s.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Rosa-Lilás&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SZQ5TGn7-uI/AAAAAAAABME/cDdBTqn07DM/s1600-h/flor+do+lil%C3%A1s.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301925661680335586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 244px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SZQ5TGn7-uI/AAAAAAAABME/cDdBTqn07DM/s320/flor+do+lil%C3%A1s.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Lilás&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;É um arbusto lenhoso com folhas perenes e cordiformes, cujas flores são grandes cachos de inflorescência grupada, da cor com que escrevo ou branca. No quintal da minha infância havia dois ou três com essas duas côres. Perfumadas q.b. algumas vezes as trouxe para a minha casa. Apesar da distância ( + ou - 300 Kms) e às vezes com alguma temperatura, chegavam um pouco murchitas, mas logo que sentissem água nos pés arrebitavam.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Em criança, gostava de sentir o seu verde fresco e brincava muitas vezes quer debaixo , quer por cima dele. As suas flores começam a abrir pelos meados de Fevereiro e, como naquela altura, nem sequer havia floristas, nem tantas flores à venda, como agora, eram certamente as flores que as namoradas recebiam. Por isso se associou ao dia dos namorados a côr anil do lilás.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Significado desta côr:&lt;/span&gt; seriedade, tristeza, paz e reflexão.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E agora para todos os namorados do &lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Dia de S. Valentim&lt;/span&gt;, esta lindíssima rosa-lilás.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&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/6095208389756956188-4394680163149060174?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/4394680163149060174/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=4394680163149060174' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/4394680163149060174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/4394680163149060174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/02/dia-dos-namorados.html' title='Dia dos namorados'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SZQ91DTvk8I/AAAAAAAABMM/ZIewbCzSbL4/s72-c/rosa+lil%C3%A1s.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-6912839309090025920</id><published>2009-01-28T17:56:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-01-28T18:34:02.353Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='O meu jardim'/><title type='text'>o meu jardim</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SYChuvL-7XI/AAAAAAAABLM/I5YTtPm_E7E/s1600-h/poema_flor.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296410986100485490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 238px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SYChuvL-7XI/AAAAAAAABLM/I5YTtPm_E7E/s320/poema_flor.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                        &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;            POEMA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Hoje, ao pensar em ti&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; descobri que,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;nos teus olhos, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;estão todas as minhas esperanças.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nas tuas mãos está toda a minha segurança.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No teu abraço está todo o meu equilíbrio.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nos teus beijos está todo o meu conforto&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No teu corpo está o meu alimento para a vida.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O dia foi passando e fui descobrindo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que em ti encontrei tudo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;"&gt;Hoje ao pensar em ti descobri que te amo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-6912839309090025920?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/6912839309090025920/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=6912839309090025920' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6912839309090025920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6912839309090025920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/01/o-meu-jardim_5908.html' title='o meu jardim'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SYChuvL-7XI/AAAAAAAABLM/I5YTtPm_E7E/s72-c/poema_flor.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-1340823880522149028</id><published>2009-01-28T17:31:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-01-28T18:38:47.526Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='O meu jardim'/><title type='text'>o meu jardim</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SYCXAFfA--I/AAAAAAAABLE/MVr8RAhCpXo/s1600-h/boganv%C3%ADlia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296399189515762658" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SYCXAFfA--I/AAAAAAAABLE/MVr8RAhCpXo/s320/boganv%C3%ADlia.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SYCW0_5wYXI/AAAAAAAABK8/A3XYNk6PIMI/s1600-h/buganv%C3%ADlia2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296398999038746994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SYCW0_5wYXI/AAAAAAAABK8/A3XYNk6PIMI/s320/buganv%C3%ADlia2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;BUGANVÍLIA                &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;sinónimo de &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;fortaleza&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A buganvília é uma planta trepadeira, de caule lenhoso e picante e aspecto muito colorido. As duas pequenas flores brancas são as verdadeiras flores desta planta. Encontram-se envolvidas por folhas modificadas, essas sim, responsáveis pelo seu variado colorido .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-1340823880522149028?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/1340823880522149028/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=1340823880522149028' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/1340823880522149028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/1340823880522149028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/01/o-meu-jardim_28.html' title='o meu jardim'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SYCXAFfA--I/AAAAAAAABLE/MVr8RAhCpXo/s72-c/boganv%C3%ADlia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-4670330980211120298</id><published>2009-01-26T16:20:00.006Z</published><updated>2009-02-15T12:17:11.482Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='O meu jardim'/><title type='text'>o meu jardim</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SX3j8Tr91EI/AAAAAAAABKw/Qaf6h05k_pI/s1600-h/l%C3%A1grima.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295639362073908290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 117px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 170px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SX3j8Tr91EI/AAAAAAAABKw/Qaf6h05k_pI/s320/l%C3%A1grima.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SX3jDI38-EI/AAAAAAAABKo/owq5_yKiaZw/s1600-h/brinco+de+princesa3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295638379918850114" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SX3jDI38-EI/AAAAAAAABKo/owq5_yKiaZw/s320/brinco+de+princesa3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SX3i5ytu_DI/AAAAAAAABKg/76Eii2BrVUI/s1600-h/brinco+de+princesa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295638219351587890" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SX3i5ytu_DI/AAAAAAAABKg/76Eii2BrVUI/s320/brinco+de+princesa.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BRINCO DE PRINCESA&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#009900;"&gt;Também muito conhecida por fúcsia, agrado ou lágrima.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Originária da América do Sul, possui muitas variedades, sendo que tanto pétalas como sépalas podem ser de côr e forma diferentes. A ramagem é pendente mas pode haver variações com plantas mais erectas e outras mais pendentes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Não é planta de jardim, mas vive perfeitamente bem em vasos que ornamentam as varandas das casas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Nota:&lt;/span&gt; Sinónimo desta flor &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;tristeza&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-4670330980211120298?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/4670330980211120298/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=4670330980211120298' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/4670330980211120298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/4670330980211120298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/01/o-meu-jardim_5306.html' title='o meu jardim'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SX3j8Tr91EI/AAAAAAAABKw/Qaf6h05k_pI/s72-c/l%C3%A1grima.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-9054343492197941856</id><published>2009-01-26T15:47:00.006Z</published><updated>2009-01-26T16:02:36.402Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='O meu jardim'/><title type='text'>o meu jardim</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SX3drct7r_I/AAAAAAAABKY/YdXCbZAmCXs/s1600-h/beg%C3%B3nia+branca.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295632475370532850" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 317px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SX3drct7r_I/AAAAAAAABKY/YdXCbZAmCXs/s320/beg%C3%B3nia+branca.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SX3bqMSOCAI/AAAAAAAABKQ/YaXAvKRIqtM/s1600-h/beg%C3%B3nia+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295630254756202498" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 80px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 195px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SX3bqMSOCAI/AAAAAAAABKQ/YaXAvKRIqtM/s320/beg%C3%B3nia+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Begónias&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Plantas ornamentais de diversas cores, caules carnudos são originárias da América tropical, onde embelezavam ruas de muitas cidades. Começaram a aparecer nas florestas húmidas ou nichos de humidade das savanas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;As flores das begónias são diminutas, decorativas por brácteas brancas ou coloridas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Um prazer à vista sempre e em todo o lado, mas difícil de manter, É que não se adivinha a quantidade de água que ela precisa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Nota:&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;O sinónimo da begónia - &lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;a timidez&lt;/span&gt;&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/6095208389756956188-9054343492197941856?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/9054343492197941856/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=9054343492197941856' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/9054343492197941856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/9054343492197941856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/01/o-meu-jardim_26.html' title='o meu jardim'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SX3drct7r_I/AAAAAAAABKY/YdXCbZAmCXs/s72-c/beg%C3%B3nia+branca.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-4342835531273989922</id><published>2009-01-25T17:31:00.008Z</published><updated>2009-02-15T18:06:50.847Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='O meu jardim'/><title type='text'>o meu jardim</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SXyjiipT0tI/AAAAAAAABJQ/og6H4rlF4Ww/s1600-h/alfazema.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295287075691811538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 126px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SXyjiipT0tI/AAAAAAAABJQ/og6H4rlF4Ww/s320/alfazema.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;ALFAZEMA &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#993399;"&gt;sinónimo de amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quem nunca sonhou passear-se entre campos de alfazema e não se deixou envolver por uma sensação de relaxamento e bem estar?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Perfumada e delicada, rica em propriedades curativas, a alfazema tem sido cultivada e utilizada desde os primórdios da civilização. Tem sido utilizada para os mais diversos fins.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ultimamente é criada para decoração até das ruas de algumas cidades. Lá em baixo no parque há bastante e delicia-nos o seu rico cheiro. Em tempos, as pessoas guardavam-na em guarda fatos e cómodas para, além de perfumarem as roupas, também afugentarem as traças, dado que estas não resistiam a tão bom cheiro. Há quem ainda hoje, compre pequenos saquinhos bordados, muito lindos, com alfazema para perfumarem os gavetões da roupa. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Em França, na Provence, é vulgar verem-se grandes campos de alfazema para os laboratórios de essências a comprarem a fim de que as suas fábricas façam sabonetes, águas de colónia e outros perfumes.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-4342835531273989922?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/4342835531273989922/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=4342835531273989922' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/4342835531273989922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/4342835531273989922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/01/o-meu-jardim_25.html' title='o meu jardim'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SXyjiipT0tI/AAAAAAAABJQ/og6H4rlF4Ww/s72-c/alfazema.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-7734836173655694052</id><published>2009-01-23T18:15:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-01-23T18:22:49.825Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='O meu jardim'/><title type='text'>O meu jardim</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SXoJwAY9XtI/AAAAAAAABIU/4UOLx8e1dGE/s1600-h/alecrim.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294555032270495442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SXoJwAY9XtI/AAAAAAAABIU/4UOLx8e1dGE/s320/alecrim.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                          &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;      O ALECRIM&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;sinónimo de coragem e felicidade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CURIOSIDADES&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Os sábios da antiga Grécia enfiavam raminhos de alecrim fresco no cabelo para aumentar a memória.  Outros para afastar os maus espíritos.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-7734836173655694052?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/7734836173655694052/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=7734836173655694052' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/7734836173655694052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/7734836173655694052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/01/o-meu-jardim_9243.html' title='O meu jardim'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SXoJwAY9XtI/AAAAAAAABIU/4UOLx8e1dGE/s72-c/alecrim.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-548089587491569234</id><published>2009-01-23T17:50:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-02-15T18:09:50.464Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='O meu jardim'/><title type='text'>O Meu jardim</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SXoEQX9jB9I/AAAAAAAABIM/06uuJZ5ni1E/s1600-h/an%C3%A9monas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294548991284021202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 237px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SXoEQX9jB9I/AAAAAAAABIM/06uuJZ5ni1E/s320/an%C3%A9monas.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SXoEFanhiqI/AAAAAAAABIE/mtEwzXkThOY/s1600-h/3_anaamona_cor_felicidade_BG.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294548803018394274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SXoEFanhiqI/AAAAAAAABIE/mtEwzXkThOY/s320/3_anaamona_cor_felicidade_BG.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ANÉMONAS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Sinónimo da persistência&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;São plantas conhecidas e cultivadas como ornamentais ou por propriedades medicinais. São perenes, de clima temperado com rizoma subterrâneo. Do caule podem brotar lindas flores multicolores que alegram os jardins em fins de Inverno.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;O seu nome parece derivar de NAAMAN, "Querido", identificado pelos gregos, cujo sangue teria dado origem à flor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Por etimologia popular anémona significa "vento". Os árabes denominam-na de "feridas de Naaman".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-548089587491569234?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/548089587491569234/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=548089587491569234' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/548089587491569234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/548089587491569234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/01/o-meu-jardim_23.html' title='O Meu jardim'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SXoEQX9jB9I/AAAAAAAABIM/06uuJZ5ni1E/s72-c/an%C3%A9monas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-6097175200956559823</id><published>2009-01-23T17:38:00.006Z</published><updated>2009-02-15T12:28:01.280Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='O meu jardim'/><title type='text'>O meu jardim</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O AMOR PERFEITO&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SXoA3Cm-drI/AAAAAAAABH8/h4Sby4KbKuc/s1600-h/amor+perfeito.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294545257520592562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 312px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SXoA3Cm-drI/AAAAAAAABH8/h4Sby4KbKuc/s320/amor+perfeito.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; A flor do amor perfeito &lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#333399;"&gt;sinónimo de pensamentos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A semente do amor que germinou, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Na terra mais feliz do meu canteiro, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Foi escrita com a cor do meu tinteiro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Com a forma que o sonho desenhou. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;O poeta ao escrever se emocionou, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ao ver tão bela flor de amor-perfeito, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Com a medida exacta do seu peito &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E odores com que o amor a perfumou. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Desejei essa flor pra minha vida,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Essa beleza pura e colorida &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Que alguma jardineira imaginou. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Não te iludas ó meu coração triste, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Que a flor de amor perfeito só existe &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Na mente do poeta que a sonhou.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-6097175200956559823?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/6097175200956559823/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=6097175200956559823' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6097175200956559823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6097175200956559823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/01/o-meu-jardim.html' title='O meu jardim'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SXoA3Cm-drI/AAAAAAAABH8/h4Sby4KbKuc/s72-c/amor+perfeito.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-1535438655428336605</id><published>2009-01-20T17:52:00.008Z</published><updated>2009-08-17T18:30:40.498+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='O meu jardim'/><title type='text'>O meu jardim</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;O MALMEQUER&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SXYPcfTUumI/AAAAAAAABHk/7Gpl8Ky6TpM/s1600-h/bouquet+de+malmequeres.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293435394133899874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SXYPcfTUumI/AAAAAAAABHk/7Gpl8Ky6TpM/s320/bouquet+de+malmequeres.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; E já aí estão os lindos malmequeres desta época. Resistem a todos os aborrecimentos metereológicos, a tudo e a todos. Apetece-me rodeá-los de carinho, apetece-me falar-lhes e dizer-lhes aquilo que ninguém deve ouvir de mim e até abraçá-los. Uns são roxos de olhos bem escuros e que já hoje descobri num outro blog, outros brancos de olhos bem &lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;roxinhos&lt;/span&gt; e outros, eu sei lá! São&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt; rosa&lt;/span&gt; ou brancos com olhitos de&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt; gema&lt;/span&gt; e de rama &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;sporting&lt;/span&gt;. Duram quase sempre o tempo de hoje, aquele que somos no diário. O alvorecer e o crepúsculo de sempre, o abrir e fechar destas pétalas contadas como "bem me quer, mal mequer" são temporalmente hoje eterno e Inverno anual, sacodem-me as gotas de infortúnio ou alegria e fazem-se amar contínuamente. Assim o sorriso destes malmequeres que, muito mais paquenos, se deixam chamar "sargaços".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&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/6095208389756956188-1535438655428336605?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/1535438655428336605/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=1535438655428336605' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/1535438655428336605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/1535438655428336605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/01/flores.html' title='O meu jardim'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SXYPcfTUumI/AAAAAAAABHk/7Gpl8Ky6TpM/s72-c/bouquet+de+malmequeres.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-6153620563202197482</id><published>2009-01-12T12:25:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-01-12T12:30:48.778Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SWs3mB7F3SI/AAAAAAAABHU/eX25yVCPWMo/s1600-h/fam%C3%ADlia.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290383313767619874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 246px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SWs3mB7F3SI/AAAAAAAABHU/eX25yVCPWMo/s320/fam%C3%ADlia.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Eu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Não quero ficar na memória das gentes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Devido a riquezas que saiba guardar,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Prefiro lembranças, quiçá mais decentes,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nascidas das causas que soube abraçar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Não quero tornar-me modelo de alguém&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Por ocas palavras, discursos à toa,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Prefiro tornar-me lembrança de quem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Escute em meus versos a alma que ecoa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Não quero sentir sedução pelos mundos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Que não reconhecem os homens de bem,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nem mesmo respeitam a fé de ninguém;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Prefiro guardar sentimentos profundos,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;De paz e justiça, partilha e amor,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Tornados premissas dum mundo melhor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Vitor Cintra&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do livro: à distância&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-6153620563202197482?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/6153620563202197482/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=6153620563202197482' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6153620563202197482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6153620563202197482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/01/eu-no-quero-ficar-na-memria-das-gentes.html' title=''/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SWs3mB7F3SI/AAAAAAAABHU/eX25yVCPWMo/s72-c/fam%C3%ADlia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-4716303857505766993</id><published>2009-01-11T15:23:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-01-11T15:48:28.356Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Definição'/><title type='text'>Definição</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SWoUcDHVGXI/AAAAAAAABHM/1qMzylCScQc/s1600-h/SALTO%2520GABRIELA%2520Abandono%252001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290063184405010802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 219px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SWoUcDHVGXI/AAAAAAAABHM/1qMzylCScQc/s320/SALTO%2520GABRIELA%2520Abandono%252001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#000066;"&gt;ABANDONO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quando a jangada parte e você fica.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SWoPJ8CNKkI/AAAAAAAABHE/NDi4BV3knvA/s1600-h/jangada.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290057375708686914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 1px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 1px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SWoPJ8CNKkI/AAAAAAAABHE/NDi4BV3knvA/s320/jangada.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-4716303857505766993?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/4716303857505766993/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=4716303857505766993' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/4716303857505766993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/4716303857505766993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/01/definio_3584.html' title='Definição'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SWoUcDHVGXI/AAAAAAAABHM/1qMzylCScQc/s72-c/SALTO%2520GABRIELA%2520Abandono%252001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-6768928256296444041</id><published>2009-01-11T15:14:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-01-11T15:22:59.196Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Definição'/><title type='text'>Definição</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SWoOTMIFEpI/AAAAAAAABG8/kB0WrcN5-8E/s1600-h/despedida.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290056435135484562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 122px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 196px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SWoOTMIFEpI/AAAAAAAABG8/kB0WrcN5-8E/s320/despedida.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; DESPEDIDA       ADEUS&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#993399;"&gt;   &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt; O Tipo de chau mais triste que existe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-6768928256296444041?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/6768928256296444041/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=6768928256296444041' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6768928256296444041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6768928256296444041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/01/definio_4633.html' title='Definição'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SWoOTMIFEpI/AAAAAAAABG8/kB0WrcN5-8E/s72-c/despedida.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-7081626889495047510</id><published>2009-01-11T15:09:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-01-11T15:14:04.803Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Definição'/><title type='text'>Definição</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#660000;"&gt;FILHO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SWoMBxTaGzI/AAAAAAAABG0/k69dXu-YVuk/s1600-h/infantil.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290053936854211378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 278px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 282px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SWoMBxTaGzI/AAAAAAAABG0/k69dXu-YVuk/s320/infantil.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;    &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Um serzinho adorável e todo seu que, em crescendo, passa a ser todo dele.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-7081626889495047510?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/7081626889495047510/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=7081626889495047510' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/7081626889495047510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/7081626889495047510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/01/definio_11.html' title='Definição'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SWoMBxTaGzI/AAAAAAAABG0/k69dXu-YVuk/s72-c/infantil.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-6544820884951587321</id><published>2009-01-11T14:51:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-01-11T14:56:40.990Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Definição'/><title type='text'>Definição</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SWoIA5nfTVI/AAAAAAAABGc/icjohXYdf0A/s1600-h/l%C3%A1grima.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290049523859541330" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 231px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 182px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SWoIA5nfTVI/AAAAAAAABGc/icjohXYdf0A/s320/l%C3%A1grima.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SWoHz2Irr5I/AAAAAAAABGU/HMAli4-0GIQ/s1600-h/cora%C3%A7%C3%A3o+colorido.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290049299586723730" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 263px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SWoHz2Irr5I/AAAAAAAABGU/HMAli4-0GIQ/s320/cora%C3%A7%C3%A3o+colorido.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc6600;"&gt;Definição&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;   LÁGRIMA - sumo que sai dos olhos quando se espreme um coração.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-6544820884951587321?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/6544820884951587321/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=6544820884951587321' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6544820884951587321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6544820884951587321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/01/definio.html' title='Definição'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SWoIA5nfTVI/AAAAAAAABGc/icjohXYdf0A/s72-c/l%C3%A1grima.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-7680705387721480679</id><published>2009-01-10T08:25:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-01-10T08:25:37.400Z</updated><title type='text'>AO RODAR DO TEMPO: O "Cântico dos Cânticos" da poesia portuguesa</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://aorodardotempo.blogspot.com/2008/10/o-cntico-dos-cnticos-da-poesia.html"&gt;AO RODAR DO TEMPO: O "Cântico dos Cânticos" da poesia portuguesa&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-7680705387721480679?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://aorodardotempo.blogspot.com/2008/10/o-cntico-dos-cnticos-da-poesia.html' title='AO RODAR DO TEMPO: O &quot;Cântico dos Cânticos&quot; da poesia portuguesa'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/7680705387721480679/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=7680705387721480679' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/7680705387721480679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/7680705387721480679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/01/ao-rodar-do-tempo-o-cntico-dos-cnticos.html' title='AO RODAR DO TEMPO: O &quot;Cântico dos Cânticos&quot; da poesia portuguesa'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-4228680551596056483</id><published>2009-01-08T17:25:00.005Z</published><updated>2009-02-15T18:14:57.415Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='festividades'/><title type='text'>S. Gonçalinho</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SWY7R6Vfm3I/AAAAAAAABF0/dQDk0bblY5Y/s1600-h/s.gon%C3%A7alo.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288979991296449394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SWY7R6Vfm3I/AAAAAAAABF0/dQDk0bblY5Y/s320/s.gon%C3%A7alo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; S. Gonçalo ou S. Gonçalinho (diminutivo pelo qual é terna e comummente conhecido)terá nascido perto de Amarante em 1190 e falecido a 10 de Janeiro de 1262.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Proveniente de uma família abastada, terá escolhido enveredar uma vida de peregrino dedicada a Deus.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;O Santo é invocado para as causas de doenças ósseas, contudo o povo também lhe delega a resolução de dificuldades matrimoniais, principalmente nos habitantes de Aboadela do Marão, por existirem aí muitos casais em situação ilegal e imoral. Sendo a sua vontade legalizá-los religiosamente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;COSTUMES E TRADIÇÕES&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Além das cerimónias religiosas, é costume fazerem umas cavacas como bolos para a festa. Umas compridas e muito duras e outras moles.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;As promessas feitas ao Santo são, normalmente pagas com as cavacas duras que, no fim da missa, serão lançadas da torre da igreja, para o largo da mesma. Para que ninguém se magoe, abrem-se os chapéus de chuva imprescindíveis à festa ou redes utilizadas para apanhar peixe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Outra das tradições é a dança dos mancos, onde só podem entrar homens a mancar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ainda hoje em Amarante e Aveiro se festeja em 10 de Janeiro este milagroso santo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-4228680551596056483?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/4228680551596056483/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=4228680551596056483' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/4228680551596056483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/4228680551596056483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2009/01/s-gonalinho.html' title='S. Gonçalinho'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SWY7R6Vfm3I/AAAAAAAABF0/dQDk0bblY5Y/s72-c/s.gon%C3%A7alo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-5614331332341722451</id><published>2008-12-31T07:50:00.004Z</published><updated>2008-12-31T07:57:24.484Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ano Novo'/><title type='text'>Ano Novo</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-5614331332341722451?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/5614331332341722451/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=5614331332341722451' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/5614331332341722451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/5614331332341722451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/12/ano-novo.html' title='Ano Novo'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-3155196042035858189</id><published>2008-12-30T08:04:00.007Z</published><updated>2009-02-15T12:34:21.612Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ano Novo'/><title type='text'>2009</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SVnXooOeDlI/AAAAAAAABFM/jU1iPUx8A30/s1600-h/meia+noite.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285492730688835154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 192px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 160px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SVnXooOeDlI/AAAAAAAABFM/jU1iPUx8A30/s320/meia+noite.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SVnWMqT3wZI/AAAAAAAABFE/ab1erT3zDjc/s1600-h/Ano+novo.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285491150700396946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 242px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 172px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SVnWMqT3wZI/AAAAAAAABFE/ab1erT3zDjc/s320/Ano+novo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;No alvorecer de um novo ano, desejo tudo de melhor a todos. Sorridente já nos auguraram não&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ser, mas, vivamos em expectativa.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Para já guardemos em agenda, o boletim meteorológico dos 12 primeiros dias do ano, que, como sabem, fazem o ano inteiro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E, ao toque das primeiras badaladas comam as passas, abram estrondosamente aquele champanhe e brindem à vida. Felicidades.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-3155196042035858189?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/3155196042035858189/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=3155196042035858189' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/3155196042035858189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/3155196042035858189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/12/2009.html' title='2009'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SVnXooOeDlI/AAAAAAAABFM/jU1iPUx8A30/s72-c/meia+noite.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-5061348040270933211</id><published>2008-12-25T07:53:00.005Z</published><updated>2008-12-25T08:12:39.343Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='festividades'/><title type='text'>Festividades</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SVM_A0tCEyI/AAAAAAAABEE/ooKlB-g1tAk/s1600-h/200px-Pres%25C3%25A9pio_musgo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283636071215797026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 308px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 232px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SVM_A0tCEyI/AAAAAAAABEE/ooKlB-g1tAk/s320/200px-Pres%25C3%25A9pio_musgo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Silent Night (ENGLISH) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silent night Holy night&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; All is calm all is bright &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;'Round yon virgin&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; Mother and Child &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Holy infant so tender and mild&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; Sleep in heavenly peace &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sleep in heavenly peace &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silent night, holy night,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; Shepherds quake at the sight.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; Glories stream from heaven afar,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; Heav'nly hosts sing Alleluia; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Christ the Savior is born; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Christ the Savior is born. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silent night, holy night, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Son of God, love's pure light.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; Radiant beams from Thy holy face,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; With the dawn of redeeming grace, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-5061348040270933211?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/5061348040270933211/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=5061348040270933211' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/5061348040270933211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/5061348040270933211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/12/festividades.html' title='Festividades'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SVM_A0tCEyI/AAAAAAAABEE/ooKlB-g1tAk/s72-c/200px-Pres%25C3%25A9pio_musgo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-1896425830086675620</id><published>2008-12-24T15:09:00.006Z</published><updated>2009-01-02T09:05:06.611Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='carta'/><title type='text'>carta</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SVJQ7gxG91I/AAAAAAAABDk/zGA5zukijbw/s1600-h/jesus+menino.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283374296197429074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 210px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SVJQ7gxG91I/AAAAAAAABDk/zGA5zukijbw/s320/jesus+menino.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;24 do 12 Meia Noite&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Olá Menino! Parabéns! Um abraço. Fazes hoje 2008 anos de existência. E continuas o Menino terno e fôfo do Presépio de Belém. Continuam a presentear-te com borreguinhos de patas atadas, barregando, na procura das mães ovelhas. Continuas a receber potes de mel e leite, talvez uma pele quentinha para te confortar no sono. Continuas a receber os que, seguindo a estrela, te encontraram na tua própria humildade. Trouxeram com eles a riqueza do ouro, do incenso e da mirra. Mas levaram com eles a alegria de terem encontrado O que virá a ser Rei do Mundo, o filho de Deus.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Olha, Menino! Quero contar-te uma coisa. Tentaram tirar-me a paz que tanto te peço e que tu me vais concedendo a pouco e pouco. Também a pouco e pouco me deste o discernimento para analisar, reflectir e concluir com justiça, o tal conceito de artigo de opinião. Obrigada pela força que me deste e pela paz que de novo vou reencontrando.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Com a tua ajuda, serei muitas vezes bestial e nunca chegarei a besta. Obrigada Menino. Bjs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&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/6095208389756956188-1896425830086675620?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/1896425830086675620/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=1896425830086675620' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/1896425830086675620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/1896425830086675620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/12/carta.html' title='carta'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SVJQ7gxG91I/AAAAAAAABDk/zGA5zukijbw/s72-c/jesus+menino.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-2585325846782940334</id><published>2008-12-22T18:08:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-01-13T18:23:15.139Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='indifinido'/><title type='text'>indefinido</title><content type='html'>Aqui não consigo coadunar imagem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Confronto-me com uma neblina profunda&lt;br /&gt;E dela vejo surgir paisagens de mistério&lt;br /&gt;Que crio em mente e movimento&lt;br /&gt;Em danças macabras de fumos etéreos&lt;br /&gt;De onde surgem gritos, apitos e um sem número&lt;br /&gt;De saltos e pulos, de vida e morte&lt;br /&gt;De fogos fátuos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dança-se e rodopia-se num ar de fumos&lt;br /&gt;São figuras pouco nítidas que a imaginação povoa&lt;br /&gt;E tenta levar-nos à imitação.&lt;br /&gt;Elevam-se nessa neblina ondeante e&lt;br /&gt;Crescente para entrar na dança sem música&lt;br /&gt;Incompreensiva e pouco audível&lt;br /&gt;Ou inexistente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É a vida! De noções cada vez menos concretas&lt;br /&gt;De adivinhação difícil, de sentido&lt;br /&gt;Cada vez menos sentido, da dificuldade&lt;br /&gt;De tudo em todos. Temos que decifrar o&lt;br /&gt;Homem, afastando o nevoeiro em que ele&lt;br /&gt;Cada vez mais está envolto&lt;br /&gt;No que constrói.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;De: Luísa Fonseca&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-2585325846782940334?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/2585325846782940334/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=2585325846782940334' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/2585325846782940334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/2585325846782940334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/12/aqui-no-consigo-coadunar-imagem.html' title='indefinido'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-5206000394511135516</id><published>2008-12-22T17:50:00.005Z</published><updated>2008-12-22T17:59:20.194Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amizade'/><title type='text'>amizade</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SU_UJNqzHiI/AAAAAAAABDM/-XbrFNxTeGU/s1600-h/amizade.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282674142681964066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 212px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SU_UJNqzHiI/AAAAAAAABDM/-XbrFNxTeGU/s320/amizade.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;POR FAVOR&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dá-me a tua mão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que&lt;br /&gt;Caio&lt;br /&gt;Depois de muito tropeçar&lt;br /&gt;Que&lt;br /&gt;Sofro&lt;br /&gt;Depois de me sentir tão só&lt;br /&gt;Que&lt;br /&gt;Sonho&lt;br /&gt;Feio depois de belo sentir&lt;br /&gt;Que&lt;br /&gt;Arrefeço&lt;br /&gt;Depois de muito amar&lt;br /&gt;Que&lt;br /&gt;Choro&lt;br /&gt;Depois de muito sorrir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dá-me a tua mão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que&lt;br /&gt;Desanimo&lt;br /&gt;Depois de tanto questionar&lt;br /&gt;Que&lt;br /&gt;Morro&lt;br /&gt;Depois desta ambição desmedida e&lt;br /&gt;Depois de tanto te pedir por favor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dá-me a tua mão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-5206000394511135516?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/5206000394511135516/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=5206000394511135516' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/5206000394511135516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/5206000394511135516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/12/amizade.html' title='amizade'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SU_UJNqzHiI/AAAAAAAABDM/-XbrFNxTeGU/s72-c/amizade.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-2978834375765452891</id><published>2008-12-22T15:22:00.004Z</published><updated>2008-12-22T15:32:15.114Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poesia'/><title type='text'>poesia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SU-yTBx8KKI/AAAAAAAABDE/bcnafcT8Vcg/s1600-h/cabana+de+pres%C3%A9pio.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282636927894038690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 186px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 160px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SU-yTBx8KKI/AAAAAAAABDE/bcnafcT8Vcg/s320/cabana+de+pres%C3%A9pio.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De autor desconhecido&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;SONHO DE NATAL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nas lajes de uma nave fria&lt;br /&gt;Em noite de Natal adormeci&lt;br /&gt;Música diáfana subia&lt;br /&gt;Paz de Natal descia sobre mim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não tinha aconchego nesta vida&lt;br /&gt;Só cardos se espalhavam no caminho&lt;br /&gt;Não tinha lar nem lume nem calor.&lt;br /&gt;E numa prece muda de fervor&lt;br /&gt;Juntei as mãos vazias de carinho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No presépio a Virgem sorria-me distante&lt;br /&gt;“Senhora, que tendes para dar ao caminhante&lt;br /&gt;tão cansado, tão roto, tão faminto ?”&lt;br /&gt;A luz da estrela refulgiu mais forte&lt;br /&gt;Nova directriz, um novo norte ...&lt;br /&gt;E ao inclinar seu rosto divino&lt;br /&gt;Murmurou: “Estou cansada, ajuda-me!”&lt;br /&gt;Estendeu os braços e depôs nos meus&lt;br /&gt;O corpo rechonchudo e róseo do Menino.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cumpriu-se o sonho dessa noite branca&lt;br /&gt;E aqui estou eu, seguindo o meu destino&lt;br /&gt;Às ordens da Senhora.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Em cada criança que tenho que ensinar&lt;br /&gt;Vejo o Menino que tenho de embalar&lt;br /&gt;Enquanto for descansar a sua Mãe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-2978834375765452891?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/2978834375765452891/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=2978834375765452891' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/2978834375765452891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/2978834375765452891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/12/poesia_22.html' title='poesia'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SU-yTBx8KKI/AAAAAAAABDE/bcnafcT8Vcg/s72-c/cabana+de+pres%C3%A9pio.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-1059746234276950539</id><published>2008-12-22T15:15:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-01-02T09:03:01.643Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='histórias'/><title type='text'>histórias</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SU-vlyMaY1I/AAAAAAAABC8/9fOTqReCowg/s1600-h/jesus+menino.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282633951592735570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 210px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SU-vlyMaY1I/AAAAAAAABC8/9fOTqReCowg/s320/jesus+menino.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;De autor desconhecido&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;O Menino Jesus já cansadito&lt;br /&gt;De tanto andar por cima dos telhados&lt;br /&gt;Descalçou os sapatos apertados (e eram novos)&lt;br /&gt;E pô-los no caminho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nisto sentiu ruído ali pertinho&lt;br /&gt;Trepou à chaminé com mil cuidados&lt;br /&gt;E que viu?&lt;br /&gt;Uns tamancos esburacados&lt;br /&gt;E ao pé deles rezando um petizinho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O Menino Jesus que fez então?&lt;br /&gt;Sem ter ali nenhum brinquedo à mão&lt;br /&gt;Destes que tanto agradam aos garotos&lt;br /&gt;Troca os seus sapatos pelos do petiz&lt;br /&gt;E depois vai ao céu mostrar feliz&lt;br /&gt;À Virgem Mãe&lt;br /&gt;Os tamanquinhos rotos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-1059746234276950539?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/1059746234276950539/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=1059746234276950539' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/1059746234276950539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/1059746234276950539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/12/histrias.html' title='histórias'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SU-vlyMaY1I/AAAAAAAABC8/9fOTqReCowg/s72-c/jesus+menino.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-5828130333234945304</id><published>2008-12-22T14:06:00.005Z</published><updated>2008-12-22T14:15:42.950Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viagens'/><title type='text'>viagens</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SU-gPypayfI/AAAAAAAABC0/yL1rlIhZFnY/s1600-h/livro+de+natal.gif"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282617081082857970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 218px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SU-gPypayfI/AAAAAAAABC0/yL1rlIhZFnY/s320/livro+de+natal.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;VIAJO NUMA DE NATAL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Procuro seres onde &lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;amor&lt;/span&gt; haja&lt;br /&gt;azevinho num pinheiro&lt;br /&gt;no sapatinho cristal&lt;br /&gt;céu estrelado na noite&lt;br /&gt;no desamparo consolo&lt;br /&gt;alguém no isolamento&lt;br /&gt;na paixão ternura&lt;br /&gt;compreensão na vivência&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VIAJO NUMA DE NATAL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Procuro seres na&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; . companhia&lt;br /&gt;. solidão&lt;br /&gt;. comunicação e ...&lt;br /&gt;nem sequer vejo doçura&lt;br /&gt;nos seres que procuro e&lt;br /&gt;que procuram 1 cálice de&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;amor&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-5828130333234945304?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/5828130333234945304/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=5828130333234945304' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/5828130333234945304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/5828130333234945304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/12/viagens.html' title='viagens'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SU-gPypayfI/AAAAAAAABC0/yL1rlIhZFnY/s72-c/livro+de+natal.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-1520750138598459138</id><published>2008-12-22T06:02:00.005Z</published><updated>2008-12-24T15:45:05.243Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Natal'/><title type='text'>Natal</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SU8y5lMQpVI/AAAAAAAABCs/yosOvpstq0U/s1600-h/anjos.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282496852746347858" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 296px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SU8y5lMQpVI/AAAAAAAABCs/yosOvpstq0U/s320/anjos.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SU8uPM0jW9I/AAAAAAAABCk/TcRmLHAftYE/s1600-h/animado.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282491726603443154" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SU8uPM0jW9I/AAAAAAAABCk/TcRmLHAftYE/s320/animado.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Natal é amor e não existe Amor Proibido, apenas pessoas incapazes de amar.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Distraidamente vagueio pelas ruas sem significado. Porque a iluminação me consegue fazer olhar para ela, admiro-a, não sem antes pensar no quanto nos pode custar. Que tudo custa ao contribuinte! A pensar assim, a vida seria ainda mais fastidiosa para alguns.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mas porque se aproxima o Natal, nem em tal coisa se pensa, porque tudo quanto se vê nos faz esquecer a realidade e quase vivemos num mundo de magia.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;E vagueio pelas ruas contando cantigas de anjos voando ao som de trombetas. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;A melodia contém sinos repicando e OH oh ohs do velho, já avô ou bisavô, mas que ainda consegue ser Pai Natal. Aqui e ali a mesma melodia inclui risos de crianças misturados com surpresas e cantigas infantis. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;E, porque cheira a azevinho com pinheiro, respira-se um Natal de muita fantasia, para acabar no dia, dentro de um sapatinho, colocado, por amor, pertinho da chaminé.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-1520750138598459138?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/1520750138598459138/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=1520750138598459138' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/1520750138598459138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/1520750138598459138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/12/natal.html' title='Natal'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SU8y5lMQpVI/AAAAAAAABCs/yosOvpstq0U/s72-c/anjos.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-6524851677994630554</id><published>2008-12-19T14:31:00.005Z</published><updated>2008-12-19T15:12:20.421Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poesia'/><title type='text'>poesia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SUux4TS2f5I/AAAAAAAABCc/TWe7ccC50MM/s1600-h/pres%C3%A9pio"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281510568832171922" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 220px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 181px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SUux4TS2f5I/AAAAAAAABCc/TWe7ccC50MM/s320/pres%C3%A9pio" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.luso-poemas.net/modules/rssc/single_feed.php?fid=6930"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.luso-poemas.net/modules/rssc/single_feed.php?fid=6931"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://minhailhameuberco.blogspot.com/2008/12/queria-um-presente.html" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Queria um presente!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;em &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.luso-poemas.net/modules/rssc/single_link.php?lid=67"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://minhailhameuberco.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Pico minha ilha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; (15/12/2008 17:20:26) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6m9JEa6w05s/SUaIrjaCnsI/AAAAAAAAAcs/dRNkrBDWwDU/s1600-h/%C3%A1rvore.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Este Natal queria um presente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Grande em amor amizade e união&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Queria um mundo diferente &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;em que todos tivessem pão casa, família e carinho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Queria olhar e simplesmente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;não ver ninguém a sofrer, não ver armas, nem dor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Neste nosso mundo de ódio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;de miséria e rancor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Queria um dia acordar e dizer:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;este é o mundo que sonhei para ti e para mim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;para nós e para vós para os meus filhos e para os teus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Só queria um Natal bem diferente em que todos sem igual &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;um dia fossemos todos gente, sem raça sem cor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Queria um presente num mundo diferente onde só exista amor ,&lt;br /&gt;Pico minha ilha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;De um autor brasileiro muito conhecido.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&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/6095208389756956188-6524851677994630554?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/6524851677994630554/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=6524851677994630554' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6524851677994630554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6524851677994630554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/12/poesia_19.html' title='poesia'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SUux4TS2f5I/AAAAAAAABCc/TWe7ccC50MM/s72-c/pres%C3%A9pio' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-7349779444068191202</id><published>2008-12-18T12:08:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-12-18T12:23:09.447Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marketing'/><title type='text'>marketing</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SUo90mEzrII/AAAAAAAABCU/2OqoEd7WckQ/s1600-h/dentes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281101486828530818" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 120px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 80px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SUo90mEzrII/AAAAAAAABCU/2OqoEd7WckQ/s320/dentes.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nota: Vejam a figura&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Numa das minhas últimas idas a uma grande superfície comercial, aconteceu-me o seguinte.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; Com certeza que até já aconteceu a muita gente, mas eu nunca tinha reparado. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Entre outras coisas, procurei uma escova de dentes. Qual não foi o meu espanto quando apenas encontrei embalagens de 2, 3, 4 ou meia dúzia delas. Não havia só uma. Escusado será dizer que não me apeteceu coleccionar em casa escovas de dentes e não comprei.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Vejam onde  chega o marketing!  Assim, 2 escovas custavam 1€ 99, 3 escovas 1€50, 4 custavam 1€ e 6 do mesmo 0,99 cêntimos Engraçado, não? Eu ri.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-7349779444068191202?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/7349779444068191202/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=7349779444068191202' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/7349779444068191202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/7349779444068191202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/12/marketing.html' title='marketing'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SUo90mEzrII/AAAAAAAABCU/2OqoEd7WckQ/s72-c/dentes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-1407846403001779233</id><published>2008-12-18T11:54:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-12-18T12:07:48.513Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Outono'/><title type='text'>Outono</title><content type='html'>Foto de Fonseka&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SUo6mX2PdGI/AAAAAAAABCM/e2KvJu6zYEM/s1600-h/P5010016.JPG"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281097943956288610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SUo6mX2PdGI/AAAAAAAABCM/e2KvJu6zYEM/s320/P5010016.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"&gt; Era Outono e tu fingias gostar de verde.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"&gt;Da nossa janela, olhávamos uma manta de&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"&gt;retalhos que, de verde, só tinha uniões.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"&gt;Era Outono e o verde fingido desse tempo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"&gt;lembrava a esperança que espreitava&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"&gt;teimando em resistir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"&gt;Era Outono e o verde era cobre, amarelo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"&gt;de infinito e o ar arrefecia um bocadito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"&gt;eliminando Primaveras, fazendo surgir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"&gt;Aquele Outono da vida que traz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"&gt;brancas as cãs e fracas as forças&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"&gt;mas grande a resistência.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#990000;"&gt;Nesta data ainda é Outono, um pouco a fugir para o Inverno, mas é Outono até qualquer dia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-1407846403001779233?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/1407846403001779233/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=1407846403001779233' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/1407846403001779233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/1407846403001779233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/12/foto-de-fonseka-era-outono-e-tu-fingias.html' title='Outono'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SUo6mX2PdGI/AAAAAAAABCM/e2KvJu6zYEM/s72-c/P5010016.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-7674518566398348647</id><published>2008-12-17T12:03:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-12-17T12:20:30.050Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poesia'/><title type='text'>Em cruz</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SUjsKVD7MPI/AAAAAAAABB8/zgObvPCRZ1w/s1600-h/Winter+Leaves.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280730225288360178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SUjsKVD7MPI/AAAAAAAABB8/zgObvPCRZ1w/s320/Winter+Leaves.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  Em cruz abraço e vivo aquele que nasceu, aperto os sons de línguas vivas, decoro os sorrisos e as lágrimas, conservo o vento e a luz deste solar.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  Em cruz penso união de seres e vidas, descubro pareceres, desejo agoras, contemplo abraços, alargo vistas, abraço o vivo e aquele que nasceu.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  Em cruz vislumbro interiores de mim, do mundo colho flores, sinto o que sou no que me imagino, apanho universo em concha manual e,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  Em cruz agradeço ternuras infindas, misturo cores de largas paletas, combino todas, invento uma e descubro, em mim, tela que não sou.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;08.12.17&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-7674518566398348647?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/7674518566398348647/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=7674518566398348647' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/7674518566398348647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/7674518566398348647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/12/em-cruz.html' title='Em cruz'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SUjsKVD7MPI/AAAAAAAABB8/zgObvPCRZ1w/s72-c/Winter+Leaves.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-3012647126539788552</id><published>2008-12-17T11:46:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-12-17T12:02:04.390Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Saiu'/><title type='text'>Saiu</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SUjoFZnNG4I/AAAAAAAABB0/eXMV-Z0nfh8/s1600-h/foto+poeta.bmp"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280725742564219778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 158px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SUjoFZnNG4I/AAAAAAAABB0/eXMV-Z0nfh8/s320/foto+poeta.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;    Saquei miolo à concha rica de mar e,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Quando de chumbo vejo o céu,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;aquele céu que de azul-céu eu adoro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Escrevo, escrevo, escrevo e surge poesia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Aquela com que vos abraço agora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;agora e sempre neste dia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Se eu pudesse, Ah! Se eu pudesse,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;choveriam flores nesta hora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;e a música surgiria num carrilhão de grande festa.&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-3012647126539788552?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/3012647126539788552/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=3012647126539788552' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/3012647126539788552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/3012647126539788552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/12/saiu.html' title='Saiu'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SUjoFZnNG4I/AAAAAAAABB0/eXMV-Z0nfh8/s72-c/foto+poeta.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-5844370654828551748</id><published>2008-12-16T19:19:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-12-16T19:38:09.014Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='recordações de infância'/><title type='text'>Recordações de Infância</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;   Bibes de folhos, um chapelinho, cabelos presos num laçarote, apertando nos braços com muita força, um boneco de celulóide. Fingia, às vezes, que o passeava numa cadeirinha de madeira, imitava o seu choro, fazia biberons ... de faz de conta eu era mamã verdadeira. Quando o esquecia, saltava à corda, ou subia bem alto no meu baloiço, procurava bichinhos no meu quintal, guardava as pedrinhas dentro de um bolso. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;    Que saudades tenho desse tempo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;    Ia com a avó à quinta, sempre a pular. Roía uma cenoura acabada de arrancar, caía na presa de água por não sossegar, até as picadas da abelha são p'ra recordar. Subia às pereiras, colhia fruta, sempre com os adultos a ralhar, subi a um marmeleiro, colhi marmelos, não fui capaz de me de lá tirar. Brincava de jantarinhos, imitava minha mãe com seus sapatos, punha cremes e pó de arroz na cara, pintava os lábios, era feliz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;    Tive uma infância feliz, por isso mesmo a recordo, fiz sempre tudo o que quis, até com brinquedos de corda.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;    Hoje sou o que quis ser, pois às bonecas dei aulas, com os meus alunos brinquei, com eles sempre fiz gala.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-5844370654828551748?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/5844370654828551748/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=5844370654828551748' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/5844370654828551748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/5844370654828551748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/12/recordaes-de-infncia.html' title='Recordações de Infância'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-7333848228473182186</id><published>2008-12-13T11:34:00.006Z</published><updated>2008-12-22T18:00:27.133Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Opinião'/><title type='text'>Opinião</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-7333848228473182186?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/7333848228473182186/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=7333848228473182186' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/7333848228473182186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/7333848228473182186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/12/opinio_13.html' title='Opinião'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-6445231567196700090</id><published>2008-12-13T07:19:00.004Z</published><updated>2008-12-13T07:40:17.759Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='homenagem'/><title type='text'>homenagem</title><content type='html'>PRÉMIOS e GALARDÕES&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É professor honorário da &lt;a title="Academia de Cinema de Skopje" href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Academia_de_Cinema_de_Skopje"&gt;Academia de Cinema de Skopje&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recebeu em &lt;a title="2008" href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/2008"&gt;2008&lt;/a&gt; o &lt;a title="Prémio Mundial do Humanismo" href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pr%C3%A9mio_Mundial_do_Humanismo"&gt;Prémio Mundial do Humanismo&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Em 2008, Manoel de Oliveira foi Doutorado &lt;a title="Honoris causa" href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Honoris_causa"&gt;honoris causa&lt;/a&gt; pela &lt;a title="Universidade do Algarve" href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Universidade_do_Algarve"&gt;Universidade do Algarve&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;a title="" href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Manoel_de_Oliveira#cite_note-3"&gt;[4]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agraciado com a &lt;a title="Ordem de Sant'Iago da Espada" href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ordem_de_Sant%27Iago_da_Espada"&gt;GCSE&lt;/a&gt; pelo &lt;a class="mw-redirect" title="Presidente de Portugal" href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Presidente_de_Portugal"&gt;Presidente de Portugal&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Tem recebido várias distinções, tais como:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="extiw" title="en:Cannes film festival" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cannes_film_festival"&gt;Canes&lt;/a&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="extiw" title="en:Venice film festival" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Venice_film_festival"&gt;Veneza&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="extiw" title="en:Montreal World Film Festival" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Montreal_World_Film_Festival"&gt;Festival de Montréal&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="extiw" title="en:Golden Lion" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Golden_Lion"&gt;Leão de Ouro&lt;/a&gt; em 1985 e 2004&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="extiw" title="en:Golden Palm" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Golden_Palm"&gt;Palma de Ouro&lt;/a&gt; em 2008. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279171294829920082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 179px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SUNiUojGv1I/AAAAAAAABAw/GLrrYnfozBo/s320/Manoel+de+Oliveira" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;1 Século de Vida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;Nasceu no Porto, a 11 de Dezembro de 1908, talvez de rabinho virado para a lua, já que era filho de uma família de classe burguesa alta, com antecedentes fidalgos. Já nessa época, como menino privilegiado, estudou num dos melhores colégios espanhóis e recebeu uma educação totalmente virada para a cultura cinematográfica. Também teve altos e baixos na vida, porque, nem sempre, foi entendido.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não aprecio o seu trabalho, mesmo gostando, como gosto, de cinema. Mas não posso deixar de o homenagear por ter levado Portugal ao Mundo nas suas películas. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Aqui ficam os meus parabéns pelo seu século tão bem vivido e com faculdades ainda tão vivas. Parabéns.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&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/6095208389756956188-6445231567196700090?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/6445231567196700090/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=6445231567196700090' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6445231567196700090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6445231567196700090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/12/homenagem.html' title='homenagem'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SUNiUojGv1I/AAAAAAAABAw/GLrrYnfozBo/s72-c/Manoel+de+Oliveira' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-3163432697292887096</id><published>2008-12-13T06:19:00.005Z</published><updated>2008-12-13T07:19:27.463Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Opinião'/><title type='text'>Opinião</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SUNZZu_aBfI/AAAAAAAABAo/5STRkYS9pGE/s1600-h/cadeira+de+rodas.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279161486853932530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 177px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 122px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SUNZZu_aBfI/AAAAAAAABAo/5STRkYS9pGE/s320/cadeira+de+rodas.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Artº encontrado na pesquisa de "Fotos de material ortopédico" na Net.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;     "Um camião com material ortopédico chegou esta manhã ao Centro João Paulo II em Fátim, oferta de uma organização sueca, para ser distribuído pelas Misericórdias Portuguesas.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;     O promotor da iniciativa, CARLOS QUARESMA, radicado há 24 anos na Suécia, referiu à Lusa que o material transportado é "diverso", desde camas eléctricas, cadeiras de rodas, canadianas e acessórios de WC, num total de 447 artigos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;    O material ortopédico foi recolhido por uma fundação governamental sueca, tendo o seu transporte para Portugal, sido assegurado pela União das Misericórdias Portuguesas, que o irá distribuir pelas Santas Casas com mais necessidades.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;   Segundo esta União, todo o material está devidamente certificado em termos de segurança e higiene".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;  Este português organizou iniciativas idênticas para a Roménia, Vietname, Polónia e agora para Portugal, para onde já enviou algumas toneladas deste material.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E agora falo eu.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  Esta notícia foi por mim vista e ouvida em 1ª mão por uma estação televisiva, onde o interlocutor questionava o presidente de uma Associação de Recolha de sangue portuguesa que, dado o seu conhecimento com Carlos Quaresma, recolhe e distribui gratuitamente muito deste material.      &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Apesar de se queixar da muitíssima burocracia do nosso país e da dificuldade que têm em colocar cá todo esse material, essa instituição mostrou ao mundo exemplos vivos do que afirmava.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mas pasme-se!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mudando de canal, fui dar com uma pessoa que está à frente de uma Instituição de Solidariedade Social muito conhecida, a pedir encarecidamente dinheiro ao povo português, para comprar cadeiras de rodas, camas articuladas e outros objectos de que, segundo ela, tem muita falta na Instituição que dirige.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Só pode ser por desconhecimento da notícia em cima transcrita, esse peditório! Pois, há pouco tempo, o Carlos Quaresma meteu em Portugal &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;11 mil toneladas&lt;/span&gt; desse material. Para onde foi não sei, mas até os Hospitais do Estado se fartam de pedir desse material e não só! Eu repito, vieram já para Portugal &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;11 mil Toneladas&lt;/span&gt; . E continuam a sacrificar (pedindo) o povo que, cada vez mais, vive com a corda na garganta. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Realmente o povo português é muito solidário e deve continuar a sê-lo, mas não deve ser parvo e disso tem muito.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-3163432697292887096?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/3163432697292887096/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=3163432697292887096' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/3163432697292887096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/3163432697292887096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/12/opinio.html' title='Opinião'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SUNZZu_aBfI/AAAAAAAABAo/5STRkYS9pGE/s72-c/cadeira+de+rodas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-6366996428634406179</id><published>2008-12-12T07:45:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-12-12T07:50:50.941Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SUIXnyc2xKI/AAAAAAAABAg/5Z2Ynw0Nu-U/s1600-h/P913013520080913_11.JPG"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278807685556782242" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SUIXnyc2xKI/AAAAAAAABAg/5Z2Ynw0Nu-U/s320/P913013520080913_11.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;círculo profundo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;em ar de imensidão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;digo e&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rasto de jacto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;riscado a azul&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vejo e&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;côro de vozes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;em música de claustros&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ouço e&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;agarro o som que beijo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no trinar da ave&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;na plumagem do ser&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ribeiro ou indício&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;arrepios ou enfarte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;digo e&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;em ar de imensidão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;círculo profundo conclusão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;faço&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;In "ILHA"&lt;/span&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/6095208389756956188-6366996428634406179?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/6366996428634406179/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=6366996428634406179' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6366996428634406179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6366996428634406179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/12/crculo-profundo-em-ar-de-imensido-digo.html' title=''/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SUIXnyc2xKI/AAAAAAAABAg/5Z2Ynw0Nu-U/s72-c/P913013520080913_11.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-2706137808272511278</id><published>2008-12-12T07:26:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-12-12T07:35:05.731Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SUIUBFHWD6I/AAAAAAAABAY/LDYLx035FSM/s1600-h/P6210085.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278803722017050530" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SUIUBFHWD6I/AAAAAAAABAY/LDYLx035FSM/s320/P6210085.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no oculto da noite&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;prolongo o meu dia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;riscando luz e sombra&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;na ponta do giz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e todo o saber&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;de incertezas feito&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;prolongo sem querer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;na travessa da vida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;água som mar de distância&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rio castanho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;encontro de mim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;em espuma quente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;de meu sentir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e todo o saber&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;de incertezas feito&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aumento e decido&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;porque&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vivo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In "ILHA"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-2706137808272511278?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/2706137808272511278/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=2706137808272511278' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/2706137808272511278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/2706137808272511278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/12/no-oculto-da-noite-prolongo-o-meu-dia.html' title=''/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SUIUBFHWD6I/AAAAAAAABAY/LDYLx035FSM/s72-c/P6210085.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-8724472113016475068</id><published>2008-12-09T14:12:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-12-09T14:45:12.190Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poesia'/><title type='text'>poesia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/ST6CzsJuWjI/AAAAAAAABAQ/oY1rTJNGNmk/s1600-h/fontan%C3%A1rio"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277799637861685810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 212px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/ST6CzsJuWjI/AAAAAAAABAQ/oY1rTJNGNmk/s320/fontan%C3%A1rio" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;                                      97.02.02&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Murmúrio de fonte... convívio de gente&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;na mão uma bilha... um gesto contente&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Conversa abafada... um beijo trocado&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;receio do mundo... idílico fado&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Murmúrio de fonte... silêncio vivido&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;onde a alegria cála o meu sentido&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Conversa abafada sem interesse algum&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ondeo tudo e o nada comunga jejum&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Já era... já foi... a medo trocado&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;o gesto contente de um beijo roubado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-8724472113016475068?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/8724472113016475068/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=8724472113016475068' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/8724472113016475068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/8724472113016475068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/12/poesia_09.html' title='poesia'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/ST6CzsJuWjI/AAAAAAAABAQ/oY1rTJNGNmk/s72-c/fontan%C3%A1rio' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-2854729757034195800</id><published>2008-12-09T07:51:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-12-09T08:01:05.098Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poesia'/><title type='text'>Poesia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/ST4kVGNC5CI/AAAAAAAABAI/yswQRFmNrKA/s1600-h/P928014820080928_24.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277695758185980962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 98px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 77px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/ST4kVGNC5CI/AAAAAAAABAI/yswQRFmNrKA/s320/P928014820080928_24.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                         AQUI ESTOU&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;...de maravilha encantada, de sorrisos cerrados,de saudades vividas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;quando o dia pinta a serra, quando a planície é só verde, quando a noite teima e cai...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;ao sabor de um sofrimento, ao sorver da solidão,ao gargalhar de infortúnio...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;aqui estou!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;agora e sempre e nesta hora, agora inventando este murmúrio, agora correndo, parando, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;agora, Aqui Estou.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-2854729757034195800?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/2854729757034195800/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=2854729757034195800' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/2854729757034195800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/2854729757034195800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/12/poesia.html' title='Poesia'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/ST4kVGNC5CI/AAAAAAAABAI/yswQRFmNrKA/s72-c/P928014820080928_24.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-7069924359492788999</id><published>2008-12-06T07:37:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-12-06T07:54:00.678Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Natal'/><title type='text'>Natal</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/STosdo3FbMI/AAAAAAAAA_w/bg7OD18CPvQ/s1600-h/Menino+Jesus+lindo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276578801114246338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/STosdo3FbMI/AAAAAAAAA_w/bg7OD18CPvQ/s320/Menino+Jesus+lindo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Quero, Senhor, neste Natal armar uma árvore dentro do meu coração e nela pendurar, em vez de presentes, os nomes de todos os meus amigos. Os antigos e os mais recentes. Os amigos de longe e de perto. os que vejo a cada dia e os que raramente encontro. os sempre lembrados e os que, às vezes, ficam esquecidos. Os das horas difíceis e os das horas alegres. Os que, sem querer, eu magoei, ou, sem querer, me magoaram. Aqueles que pouco me devem e aqueles a quem muito devo. Meus amigos humildes e meus amigos importantes. Os nomes de todos os que já passaram pela minha vida. Muito especialmente aqueles que já partiram e que lembro com tanta saudade ... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Que o Natal esteja vivo em cada dia do novo ano, que a nossa amizade seja um aumento de repouso nas lutas da vida, para, assim, vivermos o Amor juntos!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-7069924359492788999?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/7069924359492788999/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=7069924359492788999' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/7069924359492788999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/7069924359492788999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/12/quero-senhor-neste-natal-armar-uma.html' title='Natal'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/STosdo3FbMI/AAAAAAAAA_w/bg7OD18CPvQ/s72-c/Menino+Jesus+lindo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-2064572300249187336</id><published>2008-12-05T10:48:00.006Z</published><updated>2008-12-13T07:45:29.011Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Opinião'/><title type='text'>Voluntariado</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/STkInht1sjI/AAAAAAAAA-4/HeCPrpyqYw4/s1600-h/Minho+083.JPG"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276257913599799858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/STkInht1sjI/AAAAAAAAA-4/HeCPrpyqYw4/s320/Minho+083.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; AMIZADE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;VOLUNTARIADO? Não, muito obrigada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Como já depreenderam, sou completamente contra qualquer tipo de voluntariado, enquanto houver tãoãoãoão grande taxa de desemprego jovem no meu país.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Para mim a palavra voluntariado só faz sentido nas amizades e convívios entre gentes. Como é possível que tanto se desresponsabilizem as empresas e o Estado, esquecendo os próprios cidadãos portugueses! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Não faço voluntariado, não faço, não faço e pronto. Bem basta que seja obrigada a ser empregada, de quem não conheço minimamente. Mesmo assim rodeio a coisa e procuro não sê-lo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nas estações de serviço, se forem self service, saio do meu carro e procuro alguém que me sirva. Engraçado, que, servindo-me, procuram sempre ensinar-me a colocar gasolina no meu carro. Finjo não entender e continuo sempre a fazer a minha vontade. Não sou empregada das gasolineiras, nem dos seus proprietários. "NÃO PONHO GASOLINA NO MEU CARRO"! Esta gente não coloca empregados, porque os pobres consumidores que já pagam os combustíveis a peso de ouro, fazem voluntariado com todo o gosto, esquecendo que têm, em casa, os jovens familiares sem trabalho, sujeitando-os a procurar aquele emprego fácil que não dignifica ninguém, mas que é muito, mas muito rentável e que, embora não gostem de viver de consciência aos pulos, é o que mais depressa encontram e os familiares não se importam de concorrer para isso. Estarei a pensar mal?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Há outros tipos de voluntariado que ainda não consegui retirar de cima de mim: A leitura do contador da água e mandá-la, ou levá-la à empresa que nos vende a água mais cara do país. Até isso o pobre consumidor tem que fazer pagando do seu bolso, quando há tanto desemprego ! Não se esqueçam dos lucros brutos auferidos por esta e outras empresas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Entrei há tempos numa loja enorme de pronto a vestir internacionalmente conhecida e colocada num enorme centro comercial e deparei com o seguinte:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Apenas existia uma funcionária na caixa. As pessoas serviam-se, experimentavam, pagavam e saíam. Eu, como sou pequena de estatura, não consegui retirar o cabide da peça pretendida, para a experimentar. Dirigi-me à caixa e pedi ajuda, a funcionária respondeu--me que não podia sair dali e fiquei sem poder comprar, ali, o que pretendia. Não tinha um escadote para subir e não fiz voluntariado. Continuo a dizer que não sou empregada da loja, mas há muita gente que gostaria de o ser com certeza. E por aí a fora... Que este meu artº sirva ao menos para despertar consciências e deixarmos de ser tão parvos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;De qualquer maneira, sei que há quem goste de o fazer e o faça. Mas quando isto acontece perante pessoas adultas que são seniores, mas não são parvas, façam-no, mas com consciência e bem feito, porque esses adultos, com certeza, pagaram para serem bem atendidos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-2064572300249187336?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/2064572300249187336/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=2064572300249187336' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/2064572300249187336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/2064572300249187336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/12/voluntariado.html' title='Voluntariado'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/STkInht1sjI/AAAAAAAAA-4/HeCPrpyqYw4/s72-c/Minho+083.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-7962690920540182980</id><published>2008-11-29T06:28:00.005Z</published><updated>2008-11-29T07:39:17.923Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Decoração'/><title type='text'>Proximidade</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/STDnbClchzI/AAAAAAAAA9o/MhT_3IAam1g/s1600-h/flor+do+Natal.bmp"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273969615387264818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 210px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/STDnbClchzI/AAAAAAAAA9o/MhT_3IAam1g/s320/flor+do+Natal.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; Ao abrigo do tempo FLOR DO NATAL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Porque tudo, mas tudo o que vejo me lembra Natal e porque gosto muito da quadra, levei comigo a Cidália à arrecadação na procura das decorações e do meu tão lindo presépio. Andámos de cima para baixo e de baixo para cima transportando caixas e caixinhas, olhem, matando saudades do que só se vê uma vez por ano.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E lá estavam o protector S. José, a adorável Virgem Maria e o ternurento Menino. Com eles os reis e os pastores, as ovelhas, a vaca e o burro. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Noutra caixa, fios dourados, bolas coloridas, enfeites decorativos, iluminações e as sebes de verdura artificial que costumo colocar no cimo da lareira e por sobre a porta da sala. Claro, que deu para um dia inteiro de entretem e de mobilidade pela casa. Mas tudo ficou liiiindo! Tudo me transporta para uma infância e adolescência de saudades e de sonho, e me faz viver interiormente com muita força. Passados tantos anos, vou ainda buscar a ternura do voar, descalça, na manhã de 25/12, da cama para a cozinha, para espreitar o interior do meu sapatinho colocado, no dia anterior, bem como os de toda a família, na chaminé do fogão de lenha existente em casa, na altura. A algazarra de todas as crianças da família acordavam vizinhos e familiares, pela alegria de ser Natal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E os fritos? Os sonhos, as filhós, as rabanadas, ai meu Deus! Deixem--me aqui que morro de saudades por nada disto poder comer agora !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E os serões de cantares ao Menino ? E a ida à Missa do Galo, onde eu, com alguns 3 anitos, julgava que o galo iria cantar na igreja ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Recordações vivas de menina ..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-7962690920540182980?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/7962690920540182980/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=7962690920540182980' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/7962690920540182980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/7962690920540182980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/11/proximidade.html' title='Proximidade'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/STDnbClchzI/AAAAAAAAA9o/MhT_3IAam1g/s72-c/flor+do+Natal.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-6522400617177233381</id><published>2008-11-27T14:47:00.006Z</published><updated>2008-11-27T15:54:23.350Z</updated><title type='text'>Avieiros</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SS6zoO6XKeI/AAAAAAAAA9Q/kEMDf-Q3MnA/s1600-h/bateiras.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273349717476452834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 181px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SS6zoO6XKeI/AAAAAAAAA9Q/kEMDf-Q3MnA/s320/bateiras.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;BATEIRAS DO TEJO AVIEIROS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SINOPSE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Texto retirado de : AVIEIROS - WIKIPÉDIA, com algumas adaptações&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Ti Zaragata é um pescador do Tejo que vive na aldeia das Palhotas, grupo de construções de madeira suspenso sobre as águas, na região de entre V. Franca de Xira e Azambuja.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;A sua casa como a dos outros avieiros, é feita de tábuas, tosca, pequena, mas tem o rio como paisagem: amplo, vivo, generoso. É ele todo o seu sustento e todo o seu futuro. O seu passado é a longínqua " Praia da Vieira", de onde todos eles vieram, visto lá ser mais dura a vida. O seu modo é a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;bateira &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;essa fina barca de popa e ré erguidas para romper as ondas do mar, mas que ali, na mansidão do Tejo, só servem para botar figura.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;É aquilo de que mais gosta, o Zaragata. A alcunha bem o ilustra. Bêbado, dá que falar, sóbrio, pesca. Vive com a poesia sem ser poeta, gosta de tocar gaita. Para ser poeta, basta viver como os outros vivem. Basta correr o rio de cima a baixo, bater uma soneca debaixo de um choupo. Basta conviver, soltar a língua. Basta seguir o curso da Revolução de Abril e ter esperança. Basta também saber ficar calado a ver o que se passa.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;mas a vida é a vida. E por ali fica o Zaragata, a mulher e os outros ... a ver no que tudo vai dar."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;Quem me dera ser o Ti Zaragata! A felicidade deste ser humano resumida a uns poucos passeios fluviais em busca do precioso sustento, é o prazer dos mais pobres. A alegria de uma sopa onde a mulher colocou uma posta de fataça, é alimento acarinhado da família. Os filhos procuram no rosto do Ti Zaragata, mais uma ruga, ou mais tostado solar. E ao fazê-lo correm a abraçá-lo retribuindo com sorrisos a sopinha que lhes tapou o buraquito do apetite ???.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;Dormem descansados numa bateira que, por muito que lavada esteja, cheira a peixe por tudo quanto é sítio. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;E, na aldeia das Palhotas, de quando em vez, faz-se jus a uma boa bebedeira para se esquecer esta vivência.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-6522400617177233381?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/6522400617177233381/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=6522400617177233381' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6522400617177233381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6522400617177233381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/11/avieiros.html' title='Avieiros'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SS6zoO6XKeI/AAAAAAAAA9Q/kEMDf-Q3MnA/s72-c/bateiras.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-6168677033767606546</id><published>2008-11-24T14:14:00.004Z</published><updated>2008-12-05T11:46:49.838Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Opinião'/><title type='text'>Opinião</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SSq3v_Dl5FI/AAAAAAAAA8w/Cs6c-T-1OCU/s1600-h/solidariedade_~u29603270.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272228348798821458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SSq3v_Dl5FI/AAAAAAAAA8w/Cs6c-T-1OCU/s320/solidariedade_~u29603270.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt; SOLIDARIEDADE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Começou na Comunicação Social o peditório para tudo quanto é coisa. Proliferam por todo o lado as Instituições de Solidariedade Social apenas e só com a benção do Estado e contando, (desculpem) com o ovo no cu da galinha. Acontece, porém, que a necessidade e importância dessas casas é muito grande. No entanto, os cidadãos que possam necessitar dessas instituições, são portugueses e o Estado tem obrigações para com eles. Cria estas casas para outros governarem. Mas como? Se a sociedade vive cada vez mais com o mínimo, se o desemprego cada vez é maior, se os que trabalham cada vez são mais espoliados em impostos e outras coisas, como é possível alguém contar com solidariedade?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;E há ainda aqueles que querem contar com os outros para uma simples conversa e que ninguém encontram. Essa é a mais dura noção de vida, tem-se tudo e nada se tem. Esse tipo de solidariedade passa completamente despercebida aos olhos do mundo, e é a mais necessária.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Todos precisamos de ter &lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;gomos de laranja&lt;/span&gt; com quem repartir pedaços de vida. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Mas financiarmos Instituições de Solidariedade Social, é estarmos constantemente a desresponsabilizar o Estado das suas obrigações. A Comunicação Social enjoa de tanto pedir e eu, carrego no botão e deixo de os ouvir. Quem me ajuda a mim?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Se alguém ler este artº, por favor comente-o, para me fazer compreender o que, neste aspecto, eu não entendo e apenas me irrita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-6168677033767606546?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/6168677033767606546/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=6168677033767606546' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6168677033767606546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/6168677033767606546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/11/pedido-de-compreenso.html' title='Opinião'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SSq3v_Dl5FI/AAAAAAAAA8w/Cs6c-T-1OCU/s72-c/solidariedade_~u29603270.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-8284909478753401169</id><published>2008-11-24T13:54:00.006Z</published><updated>2008-12-05T11:51:00.162Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Opinião'/><title type='text'>Opinião</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SSqy9At23zI/AAAAAAAAA8o/izXkjI118CY/s1600-h/laranja.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272223075024690994" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 187px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 196px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SSqy9At23zI/AAAAAAAAA8o/izXkjI118CY/s320/laranja.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SSqyt7nVwXI/AAAAAAAAA8g/JhIMOb6VXOA/s1600-h/laranjeira.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272222815957139826" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 229px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 160px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SSqyt7nVwXI/AAAAAAAAA8g/JhIMOb6VXOA/s320/laranjeira.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Laranjas laranjas laranjas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;No fim de almoço, normalmente, como uma laranja de sobremesa. Gosto muito, mas hoje, deu-me que pensar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;Tirando-lhe a casca, o seu interior está cheio de gomos em círculo.  Lá dentro um pequeno tubo branco une os gomos, numa atitude de oferta de segurança.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Abri-a. Cada gomo era, para mim, um amigo docinho. Ao encontrar uma semente, acho que esse amigo (gomo) não é tão bom assim. E passo ao próximo, docinho colorido e apetecível lá continuo a contar e a saborear os meus amigos. E foi assim até ao fim comendo laranja, bebendo o seu sumo, lembrando aqueles que eu considero meus amigos. A laranja é o meu mundo, os gomos e o sumo todos os meus amigos.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&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/6095208389756956188-8284909478753401169?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/8284909478753401169/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=8284909478753401169' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/8284909478753401169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/8284909478753401169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/11/frutos.html' title='Opinião'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SSqy9At23zI/AAAAAAAAA8o/izXkjI118CY/s72-c/laranja.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-7637770392408400617</id><published>2008-11-23T11:24:00.004Z</published><updated>2008-11-23T11:53:19.253Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flores primeiras'/><title type='text'>Flores primeiras</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SSlA-OaFObI/AAAAAAAAA8Y/Zg_00L_vkdk/s1600-h/violetas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271816276577434034" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 196px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 157px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SSlA-OaFObI/AAAAAAAAA8Y/Zg_00L_vkdk/s320/violetas.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;OS FADOS (3)&lt;br /&gt;O PIERROT Letra: João Linhares BarbosaMúsica: Alfredo Marceneiro&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Naquele dia de entrudo, lembro bem Um intrigante Pierrot, da cor do céu Um ramo de &lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;violetas&lt;/span&gt;, pequeninas Á linda morta atirou, como um adeus&lt;br /&gt;Passa triste o funeral, é duma virgem Mas ao povo que lhe importa, aquele enterro Que a morte lhe passa á porta, só por ele Em dia de carnaval, e de vertigem .&lt;br /&gt;Abaixo a máscara gritei, com energia: - Quem és tu grossseiro que ousas, profanar Perturbar a paz das lousas, tumulares E o Pierrot disse não sei, que não sabia&lt;br /&gt;Sei apenas que a adorei, um certo dia Num amor todo grilhetas, assassinas Se não vim de vestes pretas, em ruínas Visto de negro o coração, e resoluto&lt;br /&gt;Atirou sobre o caixão, como um tributo Um ramo de &lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;violetas&lt;/span&gt;, pequeninas Atirou sobre o caixão, como um tributo Um ramo de violetas, pequeninas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"... Regressarás, eu sei.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ao cair da tarde,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;com teu ramo de violetas acenderás o meu jardim."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;José Agostinho Baptista&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Já tenho violetas no meu jardim a espreitarem e sobressairem das suas cordiformes folhas. A singeleza desta beleza contraria a opulência de outras. Eu gosto da sua pequenez sentida, eu gosto do tom roxo e &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;verde &lt;/span&gt;da sua roupagem, eu gosto do meu jardim onde começam a florir camélias com sonhos de menina, anémonas coloridas, estrelícias de fogo e jarros brancos. Mas hoje, hoje no meu jardim, são rainhas as violetas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-7637770392408400617?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/7637770392408400617/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=7637770392408400617' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/7637770392408400617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/7637770392408400617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/11/flores-primeiras.html' title='Flores primeiras'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SSlA-OaFObI/AAAAAAAAA8Y/Zg_00L_vkdk/s72-c/violetas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-5438321579725596207</id><published>2008-11-23T10:46:00.005Z</published><updated>2008-12-05T11:55:45.560Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='festividades'/><title type='text'>Festividades</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SSk1s5t7gCI/AAAAAAAAA74/fCVyxG-7LUQ/s1600-h/monumento+de+cristo+rei.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271803884337856546" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 237px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 193px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SSk1s5t7gCI/AAAAAAAAA74/fCVyxG-7LUQ/s320/monumento+de+cristo+rei.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SSk1lrcm1LI/AAAAAAAAA7w/o4I1fsD82y0/s1600-h/cristo+rei.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271803760248018098" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 216px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SSk1lrcm1LI/AAAAAAAAA7w/o4I1fsD82y0/s320/cristo+rei.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;CRISTO REi&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cristo Rei Monumento em Almada&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Imagem de Cristo Rei em Fortaleza BRASIL&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Terminou o nosso Ano Litúrgico com a Festa de CRISTO REI.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Cristo reina, Cristo vence, Cristo, Cristo impera. Mas ... o seu reino não é deste Mundo e por isso mesmo, talvez Ele goste mais de se intitular&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt; Pastor&lt;/span&gt; e de nos considerar &lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;ovelhas&lt;/span&gt;. No redil de Cristo todos cabemos e todos somos recebidos em sua graça. Leva-nos aos pastos verdejantes da Fé e alimenta-nos com ternura. Chama todos com um silvo de pastor e, mesmo os renitentes, Ele convida a entrar. Mostra-lhes o poder da sua força, incita-os ao seu verdadeiro conhecimento.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Do seu bornal serve-lhes seu pão, oferta do seu próprio ser, mas não mostra a grandeza , o luxo continuado e os súbditos de um Rei terreno. A sua coroa recebê-la-á quando chegar, em glória, à casa paterna.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Está um belo domingo de sol, parece que chamando as almas ao rebanho deste Cristo Rei. E há tantas tresmalhadas entregues aos silvados da vida ... !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;VIVA CRISTO REI !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-5438321579725596207?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/5438321579725596207/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=5438321579725596207' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/5438321579725596207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/5438321579725596207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/11/cristo-rei.html' title='Festividades'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SSk1s5t7gCI/AAAAAAAAA74/fCVyxG-7LUQ/s72-c/monumento+de+cristo+rei.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-3896863100117911498</id><published>2008-11-12T16:18:00.004Z</published><updated>2008-12-05T11:53:42.836Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='festividades'/><title type='text'>Festividades</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SRsEQilmoeI/AAAAAAAAA7o/ooZHy5hu37A/s1600-h/castanhas+assadas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267808871348871650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 121px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 136px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SRsEQilmoeI/AAAAAAAAA7o/ooZHy5hu37A/s320/castanhas+assadas.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SRsCPIabzkI/AAAAAAAAA7g/Mr8TXmj3zjQ/s1600-h/uvas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267806648119578178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 144px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 208px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SRsCPIabzkI/AAAAAAAAA7g/Mr8TXmj3zjQ/s320/uvas.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt; S. Martinho&lt;/span&gt; vinho novo,&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt; S. Martinho&lt;/span&gt; da alegria ... Vamos lá abrir a pipa para satisfação de todos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Levanto o meu cálice porque em&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt; S. Martinho&lt;/span&gt; vai à adega e prova o vinho. A festa começa com a abertura da pipa e a prova do mesmo. De repente chegam as castanhas cinzentas de quentes, a pedir o vinho que salta nas taças com gargalhadas sonoras a monte. E viva e viva o nosso &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;S. Martinho&lt;/span&gt; com belas castanhas e bom vinho. Há gente que prefere água pé, eu brindo a Baco, eu brindo à vida, eu brindo ao mundo que me fizeram conhecer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E viva! E viva! E viva&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt; S.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;Martinho!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-3896863100117911498?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/3896863100117911498/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=3896863100117911498' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/3896863100117911498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/3896863100117911498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/11/s-martinho.html' title='Festividades'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SRsEQilmoeI/AAAAAAAAA7o/ooZHy5hu37A/s72-c/castanhas+assadas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-1874500791977596882</id><published>2008-10-31T18:38:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-10-31T18:52:00.707Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Halloween'/><title type='text'>Halloween</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SQtRLFI23sI/AAAAAAAAA7Y/OTzwhQ5IvmU/s1600-h/casa+assombrada.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263389840312295106" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 308px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SQtRLFI23sI/AAAAAAAAA7Y/OTzwhQ5IvmU/s320/casa+assombrada.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SQtQzUnEiBI/AAAAAAAAA7Q/7GZkM6JTqjc/s1600-h/ab%C3%B3bora+haloween.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263389432148690962" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 113px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 100px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SQtQzUnEiBI/AAAAAAAAA7Q/7GZkM6JTqjc/s320/ab%C3%B3bora+haloween.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;BAH AHAHAHAH&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Falta-me um lençol com buracos nos olhos para sair gritando por aí.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Lembro-me  de me vestir de bruxa e de cavalgar no seu pau de vassoura lá para Santiago. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mas não deixo passar em vão este Halloween  que tanto festejei.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Apetecia-me entrar na casa assombrada para encontrar o tal fantasma que só me faria rir  e ouvir gritinhos e gritos para brincar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nesta altura as abóboras são rainhas e todo o esplendor da iluminação num quarto escuro, amedronta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-1874500791977596882?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/1874500791977596882/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=1874500791977596882' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/1874500791977596882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/1874500791977596882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/10/halloween.html' title='Halloween'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SQtRLFI23sI/AAAAAAAAA7Y/OTzwhQ5IvmU/s72-c/casa+assombrada.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-5147459512503307219</id><published>2008-10-15T16:35:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T16:55:04.066+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Poesia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SPYPLBFKS5I/AAAAAAAAA7I/XT9IaDizBig/s1600-h/ilha+de+s.+paulo+em+malta.jpg"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257406296944692114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SPYPLBFKS5I/AAAAAAAAA7I/XT9IaDizBig/s320/ilha+de+s.+paulo+em+malta.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; DE: Cristino Cortes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;PROCURA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ando à procura, Oh meus amigos! Ando à procura&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E isso não quer dizer que algo tenha perdido;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Direi mais como predisposição, sexto sentido&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Em tudo vendo a luz, até na noite escura.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Começo logo de manhã e assim começo o dia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Quase sempre tudo antecipando ainda antes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;De acordar; doseio curiosidade e espanto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Envolvência e gosto, almofariz de alegria...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Faz-me falta, é certo, faz-me mesmo muita falta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Essa procura leva-me do início do dia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A melhor hora, como quem abrindo a gelosia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;De alma aberta sorve a energia que o assalta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;É uma atitude, mais persistência que mania.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Oxalá de tanto a procurar não fuja a poesia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-5147459512503307219?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/5147459512503307219/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=5147459512503307219' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/5147459512503307219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/5147459512503307219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/10/poesia_15.html' title='Poesia'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SPYPLBFKS5I/AAAAAAAAA7I/XT9IaDizBig/s72-c/ilha+de+s.+paulo+em+malta.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-257753828430189012</id><published>2008-10-15T16:08:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T16:35:46.366+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='serenidade'/><title type='text'>Poesia</title><content type='html'>DE: ANTÓNIO NOBRE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SPYNQFLIZ6I/AAAAAAAAA7A/m8cGXAVAEgg/s1600-h/mar+002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257404184919566242" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SPYNQFLIZ6I/AAAAAAAAA7A/m8cGXAVAEgg/s320/mar+002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Serenidade, serena idade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ai, quem ma dera no coração&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;a grande noite da claridade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Uma sincera saudação&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Não ser o silêncio, não ser coada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Voz do saber, polpa de livro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ter um armário de risos brandos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Um sonho apenas, dúctil e vivo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Serena idade, serenidade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Talhada em ónix, ou amassada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;De madrugada, de liberdade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Na liberdade da madrugada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-257753828430189012?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/257753828430189012/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=257753828430189012' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/257753828430189012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/257753828430189012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/10/poesia.html' title='Poesia'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SPYNQFLIZ6I/AAAAAAAAA7A/m8cGXAVAEgg/s72-c/mar+002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-5101186478602731415</id><published>2008-10-05T07:15:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-05T07:42:13.781+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='despedida'/><title type='text'>AINDA OUTONO</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SOhcJRuer3I/AAAAAAAAAuM/lz1EZGz0EzI/s1600-h/Tree.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253550279774613362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SOhcJRuer3I/AAAAAAAAAuM/lz1EZGz0EzI/s320/Tree.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;AINDA OUTONO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Entristece-me o despir das árvores, os primeiros frios, o baixar solar e a consequente diminuição dos dias. Desço mais cedo os estores e cada vez os levanto mais tarde. A noite vai crescendo até que Natal seja e com ela a tristeza de falta de luar, a maior solidão e tristeza vão-se instalando.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nas urgências nocturnas cada vez aparecem mais séniores, muito pela falta de companhia, muito por tudo o que aumenta com a noite. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Conheço o passar do tempo, sei que, obrigatoriamente, terá que haver dia e noite, mas nem sempre existe luar na noite. O Outono também nos traz os primeiros frios. Já se sentiram nos corpos meio desprevenidos. E cheira a vinho mosto e alegria de uvas, a cestos vindimeiros e filas de tractores. O Oeste vinhateiro mostra uma das suas riquezas - a vinha . Colorida e sêca, há muito que pede para ser libertada dos seus frutos e aliviada do seu peso. E o homem ouve-a e satisfaz-lhe o pedido. E há alegria no ar, das bocas vindimadoras, ao cortar o néctar outonal. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E a paisagem vai mudando a pouco e pouco, e a vida vai continuando num copo de vinho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-5101186478602731415?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/5101186478602731415/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=5101186478602731415' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/5101186478602731415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/5101186478602731415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/10/ainda-outono.html' title='AINDA OUTONO'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SOhcJRuer3I/AAAAAAAAAuM/lz1EZGz0EzI/s72-c/Tree.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-1850003884215130862</id><published>2008-09-22T18:38:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T19:08:14.216+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Outono</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SNfe-fq4MUI/AAAAAAAAAtU/z-i2fyoPsZs/s1600-h/Autumn+Leaves.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248909055958200642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SNfe-fq4MUI/AAAAAAAAAtU/z-i2fyoPsZs/s320/Autumn+Leaves.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SNfatuqrQlI/AAAAAAAAAtM/f-4gVEFb87c/s1600-h/mar+009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248904369879597650" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SNfatuqrQlI/AAAAAAAAAtM/f-4gVEFb87c/s320/mar+009.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SNfZgkC4oSI/AAAAAAAAAtE/VVQRESSiyiE/s1600-h/pessoas+(5).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248903044178420002" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SNfZgkC4oSI/AAAAAAAAAtE/VVQRESSiyiE/s320/pessoas+(5).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Já de manguinha vestida, recebi o Outono como benção. A temperatura não está má, estragos já fez, mas não por aqui. E desci à varanda para que estes negros calhaus me dêem a sensação de protecção. Depois da morte dos meus ascendentes senti uma solidão acompanhada de desprotecção que ninguém calcula. Ainda, de quando em vez, eu sinto angústia pela falta deles e nem escondo lágrimas. Apesar de ser a ordem natural, o "deixarem de se ver" custa um pouco (muito). Matamos saudades com fotos e recordações e vamos andando. Mas não os temos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mudando de assunto. As folhas das árvores despedem-se até para o ano (Primavera), as vinhas estão a pedir aos céus que lhes retirem os seus preciosos frutos, pois querem descansar, ganhar forças para tornarem a frutificar. E há vinhas encarnadas e louras e há cachos que irão ser divinos. E há uma vida morena, tostada pelo sol em cada criatura. Serão saudades de mar? De sol não pode ser já que o sol ainda aquece bem e quando arrefecer um pouco, virá o Verão de S. Martinho e dos marmelos. Iremos depois a um magusto. Até sempre.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-1850003884215130862?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/1850003884215130862/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=1850003884215130862' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/1850003884215130862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/1850003884215130862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/09/outono.html' title='Outono'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SNfe-fq4MUI/AAAAAAAAAtU/z-i2fyoPsZs/s72-c/Autumn+Leaves.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-2040741265285805888</id><published>2008-09-22T18:21:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T18:38:34.549+01:00</updated><title type='text'>dissertação</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SNfURHJuM_I/AAAAAAAAAs8/H1XC1wpzvWU/s1600-h/luisa+bolota.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248897281166291954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SNfURHJuM_I/AAAAAAAAAs8/H1XC1wpzvWU/s320/luisa+bolota.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#999900;"&gt; Estou aqui. Metida numa pedra e ainda por cima a rir sem vontade. Esta contractura muscular deixa-me palerma, sem paciência para nada e muito menos para sorrir. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#999900;"&gt;Na foto quase pareço uma rainha coroada de ouro. Mas só era rainha para os meus ascendentes, que já se foram. Agora não me importava nada de ser princesa, mas o tempo já me levou esse carisma e já nem sei que desejaria ser. Umas dúvidas surgem na minha cabeça pela incapacidade de mentalização das impossibilidades e maleitas que vão aparecendo. E vou continuando a pensar qual será, na vida, o meu futuro ! Com alguma qualidade de vida e como sempre gostei muito de viver, eu queria continuá-la. Sem qualquer qualidade de vida, viver não interessa. Até admito e entendo o suicídio na 3ª idade ! Noutras idades não, nem pouco mais ou menos, mas o que andará cá a fazer aquele(a) que já não tem projecto de vida?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-2040741265285805888?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/2040741265285805888/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=2040741265285805888' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/2040741265285805888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/2040741265285805888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/09/dissertao.html' title='dissertação'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SNfURHJuM_I/AAAAAAAAAs8/H1XC1wpzvWU/s72-c/luisa+bolota.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-1830805038881018577</id><published>2008-09-18T06:45:00.008+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T07:31:15.828+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crónica'/><title type='text'>viagens</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SNH0stEtAnI/AAAAAAAAApI/Iz6R5LBUjXo/s1600-h/vinho+verde+alvarinho"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247244089714082418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SNH0stEtAnI/AAAAAAAAApI/Iz6R5LBUjXo/s320/vinho+verde+alvarinho" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SNHvaSWw69I/AAAAAAAAApA/P55pTCikego/s1600-h/Minho+065.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247238275746294738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SNHvaSWw69I/AAAAAAAAApA/P55pTCikego/s320/Minho+065.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SNHukFb5JRI/AAAAAAAAAo4/_rEnL9bvmyo/s1600-h/Minho+064.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247237344565208338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SNHukFb5JRI/AAAAAAAAAo4/_rEnL9bvmyo/s320/Minho+064.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SNHriiFkngI/AAAAAAAAAow/_qT1SvGLNvc/s1600-h/milho.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247234019361594882" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SNHriiFkngI/AAAAAAAAAow/_qT1SvGLNvc/s320/milho.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SNHrWjR8OrI/AAAAAAAAAoo/jkERb5iygyI/s1600-h/milho2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247233813523479218" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SNHrWjR8OrI/AAAAAAAAAoo/jkERb5iygyI/s320/milho2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;DESFOLHADA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Fui ver o Minho verdinho com todas as suas belezas. A calma do rio, as uvas já bem maduras, as suas feiras e romarias, os cantares tão típicos, a célebre broa de centeio com milho e os rojões bem feitinhos . Delícias que os humanos tanto apreciam. O espectáculo das serras do Suajo e da Peneda e a Corunha ali tão perto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Em Viana do Castelo subimos ao Monte Santa Luzia. O espectáculo da paisagem, a cidade a nossos pés e ao longe a bela praia de Ofir do outro lado do Lima. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;No rio, vive ancorado o grande navio hospital Gil Eanes. Entrámos e foi muito giro tudo quanto se encontrou. Como se sabe, hoje funciona como Museu, mas, em tempos, serviu de apoio aos pescadores portugueses da pesca do bacalhau. No seu interior além das máquinas que o movimentavam, viu-se o consultório médico, o aparelho de raio X, as camas dos doentes, a sala de jantar e pequenas salinhas de lazer e jogos, a padaria e a cozinha, a barbearia, balneários e até laboratório de análises clínicas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E subimos, subimos mais para norte. Fomos para Valença onde jantámos e dormimos. Fiquei admiradíssima com a imensa quantidade de comércio de têxteis, bem como de população espanhola. Quase parecia que estávamos em casa dos vizinhos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Depois de um serão de bailarico, a cama onde se desaguou.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ao outro dia Melgaço, Monção e Valença. A visita a uma quinta onde pudemos observar vinha (com uvas) de alvarinho. Visita às caves, prova de diferentes vinhos com a marca alvarinho e almoço.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E começou o regresso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-1830805038881018577?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/1830805038881018577/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=1830805038881018577' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/1830805038881018577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/1830805038881018577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/09/viagens.html' title='viagens'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SNH0stEtAnI/AAAAAAAAApI/Iz6R5LBUjXo/s72-c/vinho+verde+alvarinho' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-5431951573761583318</id><published>2008-09-16T18:35:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T19:16:07.460+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='homenagens'/><title type='text'>poesia</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;BOCAGE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SM_uhOrqi-I/AAAAAAAAAog/Zf5G1EWMytk/s1600-h/bocage.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246674345554250722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SM_uhOrqi-I/AAAAAAAAAog/Zf5G1EWMytk/s320/bocage.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663366;"&gt;Nasceu, tal como eu, a 15 de Setembro.  Fez ontem 243 anos. Aqui fica registada a minha homenagem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Magro, de olhos azuis, carão moreno,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Bem servido de pés, meão n'altura,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Triste de facha, o mesmo de figura,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nariz alto no meio, e não pequeno;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Incapaz de assistir num só terreno&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mais propenso ao furor do que à ternura,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Bebendo de níveas mãos por taça escura&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;De zelos infernais letal veneno;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Devoto incansador de mil deidades&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;( Digo de moças mil) num só momento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E somente no altar amando os frades;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Eis BOCAGE, em que luz algum talento;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Saíram dele mesmo estas verdades&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Num dia em que se achou mais pachorrento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Manuel Maria Barbosa du Bocage&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Duas anedotas deste poeta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;1.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Durante uma festa uma Srª descuidou-se e abriu-se largando fétido cheiro. Ao ver a Srª muito encarnada e aflita, veio em seu socorro gritando:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;" Meus Sr.s!  O peido que esta Srª deu, não era dela, era meu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;2. Diz a lenda que, um dia ao chegar a casa  Bocage sentiu um barulho estranho no seu quintal. Chegando lá constatou que se tratava de um ladrão tentando levar os patos de sua criação e disse-lhe:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;   - " Oh bucéfalo anácromo! Não o interpelo pelo valor intrínseco dos meus bípedes palmípedes, mas sim pelo acto vil e sorrateiro de profanares o recôndito do meu habitáculo levando meus ovíparos à sorreifa e à socapa. Se fazeis isso por necessidade, transijo... mas se é para zombares da minha muito elevada prosopopeia de cidadão digno e honrado, dar-te-ei com a minha bengala fosfórica bem no alto da tua sinagoga e o farei com tal ímpeto que te reduzirei à quinquagésima potência que o vulgo denomina NADA.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E o ladrão, confuso respondeu:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;      - "Doutor, afinal sempre levo ou deixo os patos?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-5431951573761583318?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/5431951573761583318/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=5431951573761583318' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/5431951573761583318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/5431951573761583318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/09/poesia_16.html' title='poesia'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SM_uhOrqi-I/AAAAAAAAAog/Zf5G1EWMytk/s72-c/bocage.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6095208389756956188.post-2678712017482063837</id><published>2008-09-11T14:49:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T15:07:47.840+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jogo'/><title type='text'>poesia</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SMkj_FH9qNI/AAAAAAAAAoY/_wCiUwgnhdY/s1600-h/jogo+de+damas"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244762807663962322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SMkj_FH9qNI/AAAAAAAAAoY/_wCiUwgnhdY/s320/jogo+de+damas" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt; Joguei contigo esta vida recheada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;de ternura; entreguei-te dias contra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;o teu respirar; dormi num mar de espuma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;envolta numa aposta que ganhei. Tornei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;a aventurar meu ser bem contra o teu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;num jogo de disputa de sorte ou de azar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;... e arrisco com suor a escrita desta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;folha, confio, acredito e perco&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;a aposta, porque me sinto desiludida.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Tento renascer numa Primavera qualquer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;onde a folhagem nova e verde nos dá&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;esperança e força para recomeçarmos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Joguei contigo esta vida recheada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;não ganhei, não perdi mas sinto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;na carne cada vez mais que a vida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;se joga em promessas e desenganos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6095208389756956188-2678712017482063837?l=biabisa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/feeds/2678712017482063837/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6095208389756956188&amp;postID=2678712017482063837' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/2678712017482063837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6095208389756956188/posts/default/2678712017482063837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://biabisa.blogspot.com/2008/09/poesia_11.html' title='poesia'/><author><name>biabisa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/Sst_NJC_K3I/AAAAAAAABiI/P4LaMnWe3hY/S220/foto+poeta.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4_9Hc9zsso/SMkj_FH9qNI/AAAAAAAAAoY/_wCiUwgnhdY/s72-c/jogo+de+damas' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
