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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/rss2enclosuresfull.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><rss xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" xmlns:itunes="http://www.itunes.com/dtds/podcast-1.0.dtd" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" version="2.0"><channel><title>Momentos de vida</title><link>http://meninamomentos.blogspot.com/</link><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/MomentosDeVida" /><description></description><language>en</language><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (Menina do Rio)</managingEditor><lastBuildDate>Wed, 25 Jan 2012 16:19:07 PST</lastBuildDate><generator>Blogger http://www.blogger.com</generator><openSearch:totalResults xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/">115</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/">1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/">25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><feedburner:info uri="momentosdevida" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><itunes:owner><itunes:email>noreply@blogger.com</itunes:email></itunes:owner><itunes:explicit>no</itunes:explicit><itunes:subtitle></itunes:subtitle><item><title>Eternidade</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MomentosDeVida/~3/m8kSceKLRMY/eternidade.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Menina do Rio)</author><pubDate>Fri, 18 Nov 2011 18:30:01 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36124817.post-7006920802956106991</guid><description>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Havia um tempo em que tu eras o todo em fragmentos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;espalhados desordenadamente pelo sôpro do vento que&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;me habita. Nada era mais sublime e doce que a tua&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;imagem na parede espelhada para minh'alma e de onde&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;eu te olhava onde quer que eu estivesse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E nos recantos da minha memória entre o ontem e o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;agora, eu ainda te vejo, mesmo sabendo que já lá não&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;estás e que o sôpro que havia outrora dispersou-se&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;como nevoa de um outono sobre folhas secas caídas na&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;calçada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Trago em mim, ainda, o gosto do vinho em tua boca e&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;o cheiro adocicado das baforadas do teu cigarro e&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;ainda vejo a fumaça  em círculo desmanchando-se no ar,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;mas sei que tu já não és e eu também não sou, porque&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;o que fomos perdeu-se de nós naquela tarde em que&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;partistes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Há uma dor que ainda dói, um poema inacabado, um&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;cinzeiro na mesa de canto onde te sentavas a divagar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e de onde me olhavas à meio riso enquanto eu te&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;contava segredos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Não sei se foi o tempo que passou ou se fomos nós que&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;passamos, enquanto o tempo permaneceu, como a pedra da&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;lápide fria onde agora jazes, em cujas bordas plantei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;flôres e onde leio-te os meus poemas de fim de tarde&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e, mesmo não vendo o teu olhar de ternura eu sinto que&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;tu me ouves, porque foram feitos pra ti...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Meus dias são feitos de espera e a mesma nevoa encobriu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;os meus cabelos tingindo-os de branco como a cor da&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;tua ausência e do vazio dos anos. Sinto que breve nos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;reencontraremos na eternidade, então,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;até lá e um beijo de saudade...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Imagem da net&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aWhVteInsN8/TbiYuz2nW1I/AAAAAAAACVQ/mQtLVnlcvEI/s1600/ETERNIDADE2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 258px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aWhVteInsN8/TbiYuz2nW1I/AAAAAAAACVQ/mQtLVnlcvEI/s320/ETERNIDADE2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600394066595896146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/36124817-7006920802956106991?l=meninamomentos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-19T00:30:01.312-02:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aWhVteInsN8/TbiYuz2nW1I/AAAAAAAACVQ/mQtLVnlcvEI/s72-c/ETERNIDADE2.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">23</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://meninamomentos.blogspot.com/2011/04/eternidade.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Fazendo diferente</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MomentosDeVida/~3/obT9q2tj3t4/desejo-todos-um-ano-novo-cheio-de.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Menina do Rio)</author><pubDate>Fri, 24 Dec 2010 12:25:45 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36124817.post-5588995937055557129</guid><description>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Desejo a todos um Ano Novo cheio de realizações.&lt;br /&gt;Realizações de sonhos, projetos e ações.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desejo que:&lt;br /&gt;Todos tenham não só a casa limpa, mas a rua e a cidade também.&lt;br /&gt;Todos tenham a mesa farta, tão farta que possam doar um pouco&lt;br /&gt;a quem nada tem pra comer;&lt;br /&gt;Todos tenham seus carros, mas optem por uma caroninha solidária,&lt;br /&gt;pensem bem; pra cada carona, menos um carro na rua, menos&lt;br /&gt;poluição e ainda podem ratear a gasolina. Faz bem ao bolso e à&lt;br /&gt;atmosfera...&lt;br /&gt;Todos tenham muitos pares de sapatos mas que volta e meia&lt;br /&gt;observem que andar descalço é bom na areia molhada, mas no&lt;br /&gt;asfalto quente é desesperador;&lt;br /&gt;Todos tenham muitas roupas boas, mas que doem aquelas que não&lt;br /&gt;servem mais, pois se ficarem enfiadas num armário acabam&lt;br /&gt;amarelando e fedendo a mofo...&lt;br /&gt;Ensinem o que sabem e aprendam o que não sabem, pois ninguém&lt;br /&gt;nasce graduado na arte de viver e muito menos de sobreviver...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desejo Amor, boa vontade, consciência e compreensão, pois são&lt;br /&gt;esses os ingredientes da paz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E que a Paz reine absoluta entre todos os seres, independente&lt;br /&gt;de raças e credos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;E que tudo isso possa ser feito aqui e agora, pois esse é o nosso tempo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;São os meus votos, não para  o próximo ano, mas para todos os&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;dias das nossas vidas!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Imagem da net&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/TRT-ZGnA0iI/AAAAAAAACTs/zHVKO9wd46I/s1600/paz.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/TRT-ZGnA0iI/AAAAAAAACTs/zHVKO9wd46I/s400/paz.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554343947679093282" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/36124817-5588995937055557129?l=meninamomentos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-24T18:25:45.242-02:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/TRT-ZGnA0iI/AAAAAAAACTs/zHVKO9wd46I/s72-c/paz.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">22</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://meninamomentos.blogspot.com/2010/12/desejo-todos-um-ano-novo-cheio-de.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title></title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MomentosDeVida/~3/A7cGnHHFmEs/meu-segundo-livro.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Menina do Rio)</author><pubDate>Thu, 06 Jan 2011 17:49:53 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36124817.post-8959063554841840998</guid><description>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Meu segundo Livro&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/TSZwiFmHHXI/AAAAAAAACT4/ygnICenQJ58/s1600/Image2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 263px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/TSZwiFmHHXI/AAAAAAAACT4/ygnICenQJ58/s320/Image2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559254520955346290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36124817-8959063554841840998?l=meninamomentos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-06T23:49:53.147-02:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/TSZwiFmHHXI/AAAAAAAACT4/ygnICenQJ58/s72-c/Image2.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">6</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://meninamomentos.blogspot.com/2010/12/meu-segundo-livro.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Circo</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MomentosDeVida/~3/E670E5Ob-OM/link-para-votacao-httpwww.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Menina do Rio)</author><pubDate>Sat, 28 Aug 2010 10:24:13 PDT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36124817.post-641508545119282304</guid><description>&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A vida é um grande circo&lt;br /&gt;boas cenas de comédia&lt;br /&gt;Com alguns dramalhões ao fundo&lt;br /&gt;O palco, qualquer esquina&lt;br /&gt;De qualquer lugar do mundo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os olhos são refletores&lt;br /&gt;Tem palhaços e platéias&lt;br /&gt;E todos nós somos atores&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E tem a mulher de bigode;&lt;br /&gt;aquela, que nem "ele" pode&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tem a cobra, mulher gorda&lt;br /&gt;domadores e leões&lt;br /&gt;picadeiro, trapezista&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O engolidor de fogo&lt;br /&gt;E não falta quem assista&lt;br /&gt;Quem és tu nesse jogo?&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sou a equilibrista...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;(by Menina do Rio)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;foto da net&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/THlFy6MjFEI/AAAAAAAACRE/eU7CetY-jUE/s1600/equilibrista.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 254px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/THlFy6MjFEI/AAAAAAAACRE/eU7CetY-jUE/s320/equilibrista.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510512359982175298" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/36124817-641508545119282304?l=meninamomentos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-28T14:24:13.912-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/THlFy6MjFEI/AAAAAAAACRE/eU7CetY-jUE/s72-c/equilibrista.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">15</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://meninamomentos.blogspot.com/2010/08/link-para-votacao-httpwww.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Diálogos noturnos</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MomentosDeVida/~3/_uwvQ35ITyw/da-um-beijinho-meu-bem.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Menina do Rio)</author><pubDate>Wed, 02 Jun 2010 15:18:20 PDT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36124817.post-9058975066616658936</guid><description>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Dá um beijinho, meu bem...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Ta bom Euclides, só um beijinho. Nada de assanhamento&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;que eu quero dormir.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Nada, assim... nadinha de nada?... nem...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Nada, Euclides! Nem!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Andas ficando mazinha...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Ando ficando é cansada, Euclides. Cansada!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Sei. Depois vais reclamar se eu me engraçar pra outra!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Que outra, Euclides; que outra? A assanhada da rua de&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;trás?  Hahahahaha.... Acaso pensas que tens pipa pra&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;apagar aquele fogaréu? Há quanto tempo não fazes...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bem, deixa pra lá...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Zombas, tá! Zombas! Mas não precisas me humilhar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;não! Só porque de vez em quando a coisa não funciona...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- De vez em quando? Esse teu “de vez em quando” é igual&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a “SEMPRE”!   Nesses últimos três anos, tu só me destes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;canseira, Euclides. E ainda ficas te achando “o garanhão”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;da rua. Pensas que não vejo? Sou cega não!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Sou um homem novo, Marina. E bem apessoado, diga-se&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;de passagem. Me visto bem, tenho boa conversa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Certo... Homem novo, bonito, CASADO, tens um bom&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;emprego. Pois tás querendo dizer o que com isso?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Eu? Nada, Marina. Falei só por falar, mulher. Sabes que&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;só tenho olhos pra ti, minha flor! Não saio por ai dando&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;em cima da mulherada. Elas é que ficam me “secando”...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- E “secaram” mesmo, Euclides ... Também, se desses em&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;cima delas, ias fazer o que? Cai na real, meu bem!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Não esculhamba, ta! Nem é culpa minha se...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- É culpa de quem, Euclides? Acaso estás a pressupor&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;que a culpada agora sou eu? Me explica isso, vai!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Não, meu amor! Tu é que és a minha flor de laranjeira,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;sempre linda, cheirosa, sedutora.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Então...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Sei lá Marina. A culpa é de tanta coisa, sabes?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Que coisas são essas, Euclides?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Outras coisas, querida...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Quero saber que coisas são essas que te deixam assim&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;meio...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Meio?... Meio o que? Impotente? É isso que ias dizer,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Marina?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Não com essas palavras, Euclides. Mas é mais ou menos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;isso...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- São tantas coisas, meu amor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Que coisas???&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Sei lá... Esse governo, a inflação, o trânsito caótico, a&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;crise mundial. Imagines só como fica a cabeça de um&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;homem. E se a cabeça não vai bem, o resto não funciona!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Pois é, né... Se a situação já chegou à esse ponto, eu vou&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;acabar processando o governo, desinflacionando a&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;moeda, jogando uma bomba no trânsito e ainda terei que&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;resolver o problema da crise mundial, já que tudo isso&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;está afetando o meu maridinho e botando em risco o nosso&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;casamento.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mas se eu não dormir agora, Euclides, amanhã sou eu que&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;não vou funcionar nem pra levar as crianças pra escola!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Boa noite meu bem!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(Verônica Almeida)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;Imagem da net&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/TAbSu1wSB3I/AAAAAAAACJk/3Ud0xtR5W8Y/s1600/conversa+na+cama.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 124px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/TAbSu1wSB3I/AAAAAAAACJk/3Ud0xtR5W8Y/s320/conversa+na+cama.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478297698888189810" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/36124817-9058975066616658936?l=meninamomentos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-06-02T19:18:20.172-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/TAbSu1wSB3I/AAAAAAAACJk/3Ud0xtR5W8Y/s72-c/conversa+na+cama.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">16</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://meninamomentos.blogspot.com/2010/06/da-um-beijinho-meu-bem.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Texto meramento reflectivo</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MomentosDeVida/~3/TRpW1SeupFc/texto-meramento-reflectivo.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Menina do Rio)</author><pubDate>Thu, 08 Apr 2010 15:34:04 PDT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36124817.post-3549085994347337984</guid><description>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;O homem inventou as armas e fomentou as guerras.&lt;br /&gt;Descobriu o fogo e devastou florestas, avançou,&lt;br /&gt;abriu caminhos, dizimou os nativos, desviou&lt;br /&gt;cursos de rios, poluiu, explorou o solo com sondas&lt;br /&gt;gigantescas, sugou a Mãe Natureza até a última gota!&lt;br /&gt;Ela agora, do alto de sua magnitude reclama o que&lt;br /&gt;lhes é de direito. E o faz com ferocidade; a mesma&lt;br /&gt;com a qual foi devassada a ferro e fogo!&lt;br /&gt;O resultado é o que estamos vendo.&lt;br /&gt;Eu lamento pelas vidas ceifadas nas enchentes,nos&lt;br /&gt;maremotos, nos terremotos, mas a Natureza está&lt;br /&gt;tentando manter o equíbrio ecológico na base da&lt;br /&gt;porrada. Porrada que joga pela ribanceira familias&lt;br /&gt;inteiras, sonhos, esperanças de todas as idades!&lt;br /&gt;Cada casa que desaba é um sôco na nossa&lt;br /&gt;consciência. Ou deveria ser...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;(Menina do Rio)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Fotos:  http://blogamos.com/imagens/11.jpg&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/S75SpzgjM1I/AAAAAAAACH4/wbVsqwygxck/s1600/11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/S75SpzgjM1I/AAAAAAAACH4/wbVsqwygxck/s320/11.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457890676574466898" /&gt;&lt;/a&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&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/S75T5Gfqg2I/AAAAAAAACIA/iYQHw83FTsc/s1600/61.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 228px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/S75T5Gfqg2I/AAAAAAAACIA/iYQHw83FTsc/s320/61.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457892038880691042" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/36124817-3549085994347337984?l=meninamomentos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-04-08T19:34:04.253-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/S75SpzgjM1I/AAAAAAAACH4/wbVsqwygxck/s72-c/11.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">30</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://meninamomentos.blogspot.com/2010/04/texto-meramento-reflectivo.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Anos</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MomentosDeVida/~3/1w9F-d7tXpI/anos.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Menina do Rio)</author><pubDate>Thu, 31 Dec 2009 18:41:01 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36124817.post-7074300544267751813</guid><description>&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;Já não sei, não conto anos&lt;br /&gt;Foram tantos desenganos&lt;br /&gt;que os deixei de contar&lt;br /&gt;Já nem sequer conto os dias&lt;br /&gt;frutos de noites tardias&lt;br /&gt;feitas de espera e sonhar&lt;br /&gt;Já não conto mais as horas&lt;br /&gt;desde que fiz-me senhora&lt;br /&gt;do meu tempo pequenino&lt;br /&gt;castrei meus sonhos meninos&lt;br /&gt;tão tenros de mocidade&lt;br /&gt;por uma felicidade&lt;br /&gt;que nunca vi na viagem&lt;br /&gt;que fiz aqui de passagem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nessa vida retirante&lt;br /&gt;conto de hoje em diante&lt;br /&gt;os sorrisos das pessoas&lt;br /&gt;tardes vividas à toa&lt;br /&gt;flôres de muitos jardins&lt;br /&gt;rosas, gerânios, jasmins&lt;br /&gt;beijos, afagos, lembranças&lt;br /&gt;de doces tempos de infância&lt;br /&gt;Conto sim, a nossa história&lt;br /&gt;trechos rasos de memórias&lt;br /&gt;marcas fincadas no rosto&lt;br /&gt;o pó de muito desgosto&lt;br /&gt;Cheiros de sal e de terra&lt;br /&gt;tantas batalhas e guerras&lt;br /&gt;Tantas que nunca venci&lt;br /&gt;Muitas nas quais eu morri&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E contarei, com certeza&lt;br /&gt;da vida, toda a beleza&lt;br /&gt;lugares por onde andei&lt;br /&gt;Mas dias, anos e meses&lt;br /&gt;feitos de tantos revezes&lt;br /&gt;Eu não mais os contarei&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Menina do Rio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Imagem da net&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/Sz1gPB8l2zI/AAAAAAAACDE/Nm2YzpijxG8/s1600-h/tempo-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/Sz1gPB8l2zI/AAAAAAAACDE/Nm2YzpijxG8/s320/tempo-2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421595337760824114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36124817-7074300544267751813?l=meninamomentos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-01T00:41:01.098-02:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/Sz1gPB8l2zI/AAAAAAAACDE/Nm2YzpijxG8/s72-c/tempo-2.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">59</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://meninamomentos.blogspot.com/2010/01/anos.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>O homem invisível</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MomentosDeVida/~3/sL0X9h7ROi0/o-homem-invisivel.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Menina do Rio)</author><pubDate>Sun, 08 Nov 2009 21:33:16 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36124817.post-6435142964496015685</guid><description>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Ele era um homem&lt;br /&gt;Que só se sabia o nome&lt;br /&gt;Ninguém jamais o viu&lt;br /&gt;mas ele estava sempre lá&lt;br /&gt;Sentado numa mesa na calçada&lt;br /&gt;numa rua virtual&lt;br /&gt;olhando pra tudo&lt;br /&gt;no meio do nada&lt;br /&gt;Observava os passantes&lt;br /&gt;Sorria aos amigos&lt;br /&gt;Oferecia flores&lt;br /&gt;noites de lua&lt;br /&gt;canções&lt;br /&gt;Despertava amores&lt;br /&gt;paixões&lt;br /&gt;Ninguém via seu riso,&lt;br /&gt;mas sentiam-no;&lt;br /&gt;nem era preciso&lt;br /&gt;E falava com uma bela voz&lt;br /&gt;a cada uma de nós&lt;br /&gt;Nem ela o via&lt;br /&gt;e no entanto sabia&lt;br /&gt;que havia um encanto&lt;br /&gt;por trás do mistério&lt;br /&gt;em que ele se escondia&lt;br /&gt;Mas um dia&lt;br /&gt;deu-se uma tempestade&lt;br /&gt;e o céu escureceu&lt;br /&gt;E nem noite era&lt;br /&gt;mas aquele&lt;br /&gt;que sempre viera&lt;br /&gt;não apareceu&lt;br /&gt;E o coração&lt;br /&gt;de quem tava à espera&lt;br /&gt;entristeceu...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;(Eu bem sei que estou em falta com todos, mas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;vou tentar resgatar minha culpa)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Beijinhos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Imagem colhida na net&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/SvekBZ3KFOI/AAAAAAAAB_M/i8HZiNb4CWE/s1600-h/homem-invisivel-300x229.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 229px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/SvekBZ3KFOI/AAAAAAAAB_M/i8HZiNb4CWE/s320/homem-invisivel-300x229.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401966622083257570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36124817-6435142964496015685?l=meninamomentos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-09T03:33:16.628-02:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/SvekBZ3KFOI/AAAAAAAAB_M/i8HZiNb4CWE/s72-c/homem-invisivel-300x229.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">96</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://meninamomentos.blogspot.com/2009/11/o-homem-invisivel.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Niver do Blog</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MomentosDeVida/~3/zpTzfQayTZw/niver-do-blog.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Menina do Rio)</author><pubDate>Sun, 18 Oct 2009 23:19:22 PDT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36124817.post-1482632727016280761</guid><description>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;São 3 aninhos de blog. Às vezes dá pra correr&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;às vezes cansa, diminuo o passo, ando...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;O tempo castra, as horas não bastam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Falta inspiração...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Nem sei se tenho forças pra soprar as velinhas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;mas hoje tem festa e a porta está aberta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Um brinde aos amigos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;que sempre estiveram comigo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Enfim, o Livro está publicado e encontra-se à venda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;no site da Editora. Gostaria muito de postar a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;relação das livrarias, mas ainda não disponho.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt;Eu ia oferecer um bolo, mas optei uma rosa como &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt;símbolo de amizade e respeito à todos, independente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt;de nacionalidade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;                                                                imagem da net&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/StfLMzRXDXI/AAAAAAAAB7E/9va94yErUzI/s1600-h/25123.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 307px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/StfLMzRXDXI/AAAAAAAAB7E/9va94yErUzI/s320/25123.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393002499581349234" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/36124817-1482632727016280761?l=meninamomentos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-19T04:19:22.722-02:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/StfLMzRXDXI/AAAAAAAAB7E/9va94yErUzI/s72-c/25123.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">89</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://meninamomentos.blogspot.com/2009/10/niver-do-blog.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>O Amor</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MomentosDeVida/~3/GLU5e-U21mY/o-amor.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Menina do Rio)</author><pubDate>Thu, 24 Sep 2009 08:22:27 PDT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36124817.post-3800208339321671669</guid><description>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;O amor não é razão; é loucura&lt;br /&gt;alimenta-se de sonhos, ilusões&lt;br /&gt;promete castelos,  tentações&lt;br /&gt;noites banhadas de luar e juras&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O amor faz-se ao tempo, presença&lt;br /&gt;um querer estar juntos eternamente&lt;br /&gt;um morrer de saudade latente&lt;br /&gt;É como um deus,  quiçá, ou uma crença&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O amor é como uma taça de vinho&lt;br /&gt;bebido a dois em bocas ardentes&lt;br /&gt;fogo e paixão em desalinho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E na loucura sem razão do amor&lt;br /&gt;explodem sonhos, rios, vertentes&lt;br /&gt;Um viver ou um morrer de dor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Menina do Rio®&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&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/36124817-3800208339321671669?l=meninamomentos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-09-24T12:22:27.153-03:00</app:edited><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">104</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://meninamomentos.blogspot.com/2009/09/o-amor.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>De frente pro mar</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MomentosDeVida/~3/_rUJA3DXOLg/de-frente-pro-mar.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Menina do Rio)</author><pubDate>Wed, 09 Sep 2009 15:32:00 PDT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36124817.post-2356682656204129417</guid><description>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;Como folhas leves de um final de outono&lt;br /&gt;brisa suave, teus lábios a beijar&lt;br /&gt;voz a cantar cantigas de abandono&lt;br /&gt;na tarde brejeira de frente pro mar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E de frente pro mar me vejo à espera&lt;br /&gt;de ver teu sorriso a dizer-me: Voltei!&lt;br /&gt;Voltei como as flores de uma primavera&lt;br /&gt;voltei para os braços que um dia deixei&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A cantar doce, a cantar prantos&lt;br /&gt;cantarei um canto sonoro e triste&lt;br /&gt;e a alma entoa nessa voz que existe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, quanta saudade, doce encanto!&lt;br /&gt;partistes como folhas que soltas ao relento&lt;br /&gt;espalham o sal de teus beijos ao vento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Menina do Rio®&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/SqgsmHVE6iI/AAAAAAAABwk/cNmJKgFero8/s1600-h/frentemar.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 225px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/SqgsmHVE6iI/AAAAAAAABwk/cNmJKgFero8/s320/frentemar.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379598788208159266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36124817-2356682656204129417?l=meninamomentos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-09-09T19:32:00.946-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/SqgsmHVE6iI/AAAAAAAABwk/cNmJKgFero8/s72-c/frentemar.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">71</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://meninamomentos.blogspot.com/2009/09/de-frente-pro-mar.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Entre o silêncio e a escuridão</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MomentosDeVida/~3/rkAEzyhQNF8/entre-o-silencio-e-escuridao.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Menina do Rio)</author><pubDate>Tue, 25 Aug 2009 14:13:29 PDT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36124817.post-4550399845716610688</guid><description>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;E o silêncio era tanto&lt;br /&gt;que arranhava a alma&lt;br /&gt;E era tão frio que doía&lt;br /&gt;e tão assustador&lt;br /&gt;que medrava&lt;br /&gt;arrepiando a pele&lt;br /&gt;que nem o morno da noite&lt;br /&gt;aquecia&lt;br /&gt;e o escuro arrastava-se&lt;br /&gt;infindável, atrevido;&lt;br /&gt;movendo-se&lt;br /&gt;calado na sombras&lt;br /&gt;que teimavam em brincar&lt;br /&gt;de aguçar-me os sentidos.&lt;br /&gt;Dedos trêmulos e longos&lt;br /&gt;tateando o nada&lt;br /&gt;entre os contornos imaginários&lt;br /&gt;da tua silhueta.&lt;br /&gt;Encolhi-me nua&lt;br /&gt;em posição fetal&lt;br /&gt;até que o silêncio&lt;br /&gt;frio e letal&lt;br /&gt;rompeu na alvorada,&lt;br /&gt;a luz tênua&lt;br /&gt;de uma manhã a mais&lt;br /&gt;e adormeci...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;(Menina do Rio)®&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/SpRT21JJRQI/AAAAAAAABts/YaPN3kw4NKw/s1600-h/silencioescuro.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 308px; height: 204px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/SpRT21JJRQI/AAAAAAAABts/YaPN3kw4NKw/s320/silencioescuro.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374012456803321090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36124817-4550399845716610688?l=meninamomentos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-08-25T18:13:29.489-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/SpRT21JJRQI/AAAAAAAABts/YaPN3kw4NKw/s72-c/silencioescuro.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">67</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://meninamomentos.blogspot.com/2009/08/entre-o-silencio-e-escuridao.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>O nosso tempo</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MomentosDeVida/~3/bJE-RbnKsc8/o-nosso-tempo.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Menina do Rio)</author><pubDate>Wed, 12 Aug 2009 10:14:05 PDT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36124817.post-7193782142541878125</guid><description>&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;O nosso tempo não é  agora&lt;br /&gt;Ou em outro mundo, lá fora&lt;br /&gt;Um encontro em outra vida&lt;br /&gt;estrelas vagando ao infinito&lt;br /&gt;Talvez num sonho bonito&lt;br /&gt;Ou quem sabe no futuro&lt;br /&gt;num olhar por trás do muro;&lt;br /&gt;ou uma palavra calada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nosso tempo não se fez&lt;br /&gt;nos dias quentes de um mês&lt;br /&gt;nas horas vagas de um dia&lt;br /&gt;noutras camas, noutras bocas&lt;br /&gt;no calar das vozes roucas&lt;br /&gt;silenciando os espaços&lt;br /&gt;nos vãos de outros abraços&lt;br /&gt;entre o tudo e o nada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nosso tempo, nem se deu&lt;br /&gt;morreu ainda menino&lt;br /&gt;corações em desatino&lt;br /&gt;febre sem fé amolada&lt;br /&gt;sem delírio ou madrugada&lt;br /&gt;Morreu assim, amiúde&lt;br /&gt;na dor da inquietude&lt;br /&gt;O nosso tempo morreu...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Menina do Rio®&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36124817-7193782142541878125?l=meninamomentos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-08-12T14:14:05.418-03:00</app:edited><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">76</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://meninamomentos.blogspot.com/2009/08/o-nosso-tempo.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Loucos somos</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MomentosDeVida/~3/g-uGionhQUI/loucos-somos.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Menina do Rio)</author><pubDate>Fri, 24 Jul 2009 19:12:06 PDT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36124817.post-4356782256094560086</guid><description>&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Pois é...meu bloguinho anda mesmo jogado às moscas, mas...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Hoje deixo um poema meu em video&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Que tenham um ótimo final de semana, porque aqui &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;tá frio e chuvoso e eu contando as horas pra que chegue&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;a primavera.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Beijinhos e um afago&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;by Menina do Rio&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Obs: as vezes é preciso esperar o video carregar! &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="445" height="364"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/uwf3BSxVNCI&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/uwf3BSxVNCI&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36124817-4356782256094560086?l=meninamomentos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-07-24T23:12:06.095-03:00</app:edited><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">68</thr:total><enclosure url="http://www.youtube.com/v/uwf3BSxVNCI&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;border=1" length="1052" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" /><media:content url="http://www.youtube.com/v/uwf3BSxVNCI&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;border=1" fileSize="1052" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" /><itunes:explicit>no</itunes:explicit><itunes:subtitle>Pois é...meu bloguinho anda mesmo jogado às moscas, mas... Hoje deixo um poema meu em videoQue tenham um ótimo final de semana, porque aqui tá frio e chuvoso e eu contando as horas pra que cheguea primavera. Beijinhos e um afagoby Menina do Rio Obs: as ve</itunes:subtitle><itunes:author>noreply@blogger.com (Menina do Rio)</itunes:author><itunes:summary>Pois é...meu bloguinho anda mesmo jogado às moscas, mas... Hoje deixo um poema meu em videoQue tenham um ótimo final de semana, porque aqui tá frio e chuvoso e eu contando as horas pra que cheguea primavera. Beijinhos e um afagoby Menina do Rio Obs: as vezes é preciso esperar o video carregar! </itunes:summary><feedburner:origLink>http://meninamomentos.blogspot.com/2009/07/loucos-somos.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Teia de gente</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MomentosDeVida/~3/VNJMwOAgJyw/teia-de-gente.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Menina do Rio)</author><pubDate>Sat, 11 Jul 2009 18:57:32 PDT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36124817.post-8319905687933394926</guid><description>&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;A praia é feita de areia&lt;br /&gt;onde o mar  deita e se estende&lt;br /&gt;soberbo na própria imensidão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A aranha vive na teia&lt;br /&gt;nos fios aos quais se prende&lt;br /&gt;tecendo a vida de mansidão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poetas da nossa laia&lt;br /&gt;andam descalços na praia&lt;br /&gt;tecem palavras ao vento&lt;br /&gt;amores, dores lamentos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Palavras são grãos de areia&lt;br /&gt;com os quais construimos a teia&lt;br /&gt;na rede que nos liga ao mundo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pérolas, conchas, Oh que riqueza!&lt;br /&gt;transformam tanta beleza&lt;br /&gt;em sentimento profundo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Menina do Rio&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/SllCsyr_fuI/AAAAAAAABn8/2S9WLqfhHfA/s1600-h/teia+de+gente.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 255px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/SllCsyr_fuI/AAAAAAAABn8/2S9WLqfhHfA/s320/teia+de+gente.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357386569021882082" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/36124817-8319905687933394926?l=meninamomentos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-07-11T22:57:32.744-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/SllCsyr_fuI/AAAAAAAABn8/2S9WLqfhHfA/s72-c/teia+de+gente.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">75</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://meninamomentos.blogspot.com/2009/07/teia-de-gente.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Hoje</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MomentosDeVida/~3/eMUH-H5pDQw/hoje.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Menina do Rio)</author><pubDate>Wed, 08 Jul 2009 20:32:13 PDT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36124817.post-372436340218471703</guid><description>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Hoje a tarde está fria&lt;br /&gt;não há poesia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje eu quero um sonho&lt;br /&gt;bem sonhado&lt;br /&gt;um sorriso risonho&lt;br /&gt;emoldurado&lt;br /&gt;no quadro da janela&lt;br /&gt;um olhar de pecado,&lt;br /&gt;a rosa mais bela&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje eu não quero gritos,&lt;br /&gt;lamentos&lt;br /&gt;quero a canção do firmamento&lt;br /&gt;uma taça de vinho,&lt;br /&gt;um carinho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje eu quero viver&lt;br /&gt;a mais pura alegria&lt;br /&gt;que alguém pode ter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ainda que seja&lt;br /&gt;apenas hoje&lt;br /&gt;pois é tudo o que tenho&lt;br /&gt;e onde desenho&lt;br /&gt;o meu querer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Menina do Rio®&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36124817-372436340218471703?l=meninamomentos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-07-09T00:32:13.662-03:00</app:edited><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">80</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://meninamomentos.blogspot.com/2009/06/hoje.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>O teu silêncio</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MomentosDeVida/~3/BKKvRNYZ0hc/o-teu-silencio.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Menina do Rio)</author><pubDate>Sun, 21 Jun 2009 15:57:00 PDT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36124817.post-4082366429530364901</guid><description>&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não quebres o silêncio&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ele é tudo o que ficou de ti&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;e já me acostumei a andar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;de mãos dadas com ele&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não violes os meus ouvidos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;com palavras e frases nunca ditas,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;nem com promessas caladas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;que machucam a alma&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não me cegues os olhos &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;com a tua luz, sob a qual&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;fiz-me mariposa tonta&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a dançar inebriada&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;até cairem-me as asas &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não me macules a boca&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;com beijos falsos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;e ritos gestuais&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;que não são teus&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Deixe que o silêncio habite-me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;de mansinho entre a espera&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;e a ilusão,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;anestesiando os dias&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;na quietude com que te sonho&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;acordada,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;na música que já não ouço,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;no frio da tua ausência&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não quebres o teu silêncio&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;que calou-me os versos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;que te fazia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ao pensar que eras meu&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Menina do Rio®&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;imagem da net&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/Sj6wo_vzlsI/AAAAAAAABl4/Wimcu7BNWvs/s1600-h/solitaireEnSilencio.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 298px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/Sj6wo_vzlsI/AAAAAAAABl4/Wimcu7BNWvs/s320/solitaireEnSilencio.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349907625715930818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36124817-4082366429530364901?l=meninamomentos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-06-21T19:57:00.478-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/Sj6wo_vzlsI/AAAAAAAABl4/Wimcu7BNWvs/s72-c/solitaireEnSilencio.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">76</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://meninamomentos.blogspot.com/2009/06/o-teu-silencio.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Amiúde</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MomentosDeVida/~3/BB22oVwmbzM/amiude.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Menina do Rio)</author><pubDate>Mon, 08 Jun 2009 19:35:42 PDT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36124817.post-5877683222608047019</guid><description>&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;De par em par, abro as janelas&lt;br /&gt;dos sonhos de minh'alma  menina&lt;br /&gt;contemplo no jardim, a flor mais bela&lt;br /&gt;e guardo suas cores na retina&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De passo em passo, abro meus braços&lt;br /&gt;e vou colhendo amigos  e sorrisos&lt;br /&gt;em gestos de ternura crio laços&lt;br /&gt;Viver é isso. E é disso que preciso&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De letra em letra, verso em verso&lt;br /&gt;mesmo que me perca em alguns reversos&lt;br /&gt;faço poesia, conto a minha história&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De gota em gota, meu olhar deságua&lt;br /&gt;por muitas lembranças e algumas mágoas&lt;br /&gt;de amores guardados na memória&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Menina do Rio®&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36124817-5877683222608047019?l=meninamomentos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-06-08T23:35:42.668-03:00</app:edited><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">80</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://meninamomentos.blogspot.com/2009/06/amiude.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Ausência</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MomentosDeVida/~3/3h0sIiTLciM/ausencia.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Menina do Rio)</author><pubDate>Mon, 08 Jun 2009 19:21:32 PDT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36124817.post-7249612163583693528</guid><description>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Queridos amigos,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boa parte da minha ausência, deve-se à falta de tempo;&lt;br /&gt;metade, talvez, porque a "outra" metade dessa ausência é&lt;br /&gt;uma mistura de preguiça e cansaço. O mês de abril passou&lt;br /&gt;por cima de mim feito uma locomotiva desgovernada;&lt;br /&gt;excesso de trabalho, tensão - olhem que não me refiro&lt;br /&gt;à Tpm  (nem sei se isso existe!!!). &lt;br /&gt;A proposta da Editora, a expectativa sobre o livro e o&lt;br /&gt;trabalho quase me botaram à pique!&lt;br /&gt;Não tenho vindo ao meu blog. Recebo os comentários por&lt;br /&gt;email e na medida que posso, vou lendo e retribuindo quem&lt;br /&gt;comentou. Com isso acabo não visitando a minha lista de&lt;br /&gt;blogs amigos da lateral. Espero poder voltar à forma antiga.&lt;br /&gt;Espero mesmo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por isso deixo aqui mais uma vez o meu pedido de desculpas&lt;br /&gt;e um videozinho.&lt;br /&gt;Beijos! Muitos beijos!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="445" height="364"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ns_RwSr7KO8&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ns_RwSr7KO8&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36124817-7249612163583693528?l=meninamomentos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-06-08T23:21:32.339-03:00</app:edited><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">66</thr:total><enclosure url="http://www.youtube.com/v/ns_RwSr7KO8&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;border=1" length="965" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" /><media:content url="http://www.youtube.com/v/ns_RwSr7KO8&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;border=1" fileSize="965" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" /><itunes:explicit>no</itunes:explicit><itunes:subtitle>Queridos amigos, Boa parte da minha ausência, deve-se à falta de tempo; metade, talvez, porque a "outra" metade dessa ausência é uma mistura de preguiça e cansaço. O mês de abril passou por cima de mim feito uma locomotiva desgovernada; excesso de trabalh</itunes:subtitle><itunes:author>noreply@blogger.com (Menina do Rio)</itunes:author><itunes:summary>Queridos amigos, Boa parte da minha ausência, deve-se à falta de tempo; metade, talvez, porque a "outra" metade dessa ausência é uma mistura de preguiça e cansaço. O mês de abril passou por cima de mim feito uma locomotiva desgovernada; excesso de trabalho, tensão - olhem que não me refiro à Tpm (nem sei se isso existe!!!). A proposta da Editora, a expectativa sobre o livro e o trabalho quase me botaram à pique! Não tenho vindo ao meu blog. Recebo os comentários por email e na medida que posso, vou lendo e retribuindo quem comentou. Com isso acabo não visitando a minha lista de blogs amigos da lateral. Espero poder voltar à forma antiga. Espero mesmo! Por isso deixo aqui mais uma vez o meu pedido de desculpas e um videozinho. Beijos! Muitos beijos!!! </itunes:summary><feedburner:origLink>http://meninamomentos.blogspot.com/2009/05/ausencia.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>O canto da sereia</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MomentosDeVida/~3/fylC_OpSsPE/havia-uma-vez-um-pescador-de-cancao-e.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Menina do Rio)</author><pubDate>Sun, 21 Jun 2009 14:58:03 PDT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36124817.post-7379039103051780247</guid><description>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Havia uma vez, um pescador de canção e sua musa.&lt;br /&gt;Viviam distantes e entre eles havia o oceano imenso!&lt;br /&gt;Ele pescava lindas canções e depositava mentalmente&lt;br /&gt;do outro lado do mar e ela as colhia como se fossem&lt;br /&gt;pérolas. Existia um canal imaginário entre eles onde&lt;br /&gt;as canções tocavam melodicamente como uma  orquestra&lt;br /&gt;sinfônica regida a quatro mãos, guiadas pelo maestro&lt;br /&gt;cujo nome era Amor.  Havia... Até que um dia , eis que&lt;br /&gt;surge uma sereia (?) novinha de longa cabeleira preta,&lt;br /&gt;cantando um funk sem noção e...O pescador encantou-se&lt;br /&gt;e do ponto onde estava ergueu uma bandeira e bradou:&lt;br /&gt;- Yo soy un hombre libre!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;O maestro assustou-se, perdeu o tom e a orquestra&lt;br /&gt;desafinou... A musa que assistia tudo da outra margem,&lt;br /&gt;ficou entristecida, sem entender se o encanto da sereia&lt;br /&gt;estava  canto ou nos longos cabelos negros...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;( texto meramente ficticío)&lt;br /&gt;by Menina do Rio&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/SgeQq2OF8_I/AAAAAAAABhE/9eSILiVX8vg/s1600-h/sereia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 277px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/SgeQq2OF8_I/AAAAAAAABhE/9eSILiVX8vg/s320/sereia.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334391349427172338" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/36124817-7379039103051780247?l=meninamomentos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-06-21T18:58:03.790-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/SgeQq2OF8_I/AAAAAAAABhE/9eSILiVX8vg/s72-c/sereia.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">89</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://meninamomentos.blogspot.com/2009/05/havia-uma-vez-um-pescador-de-cancao-e.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>À minha, à nossas nossas Mães!</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MomentosDeVida/~3/utygT_LMvG8/minha-nossas-nossas-maes.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Menina do Rio)</author><pubDate>Fri, 08 May 2009 17:41:59 PDT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36124817.post-6682871876826857535</guid><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/SgTRLa66eCI/AAAAAAAABg8/2wPXh5uyARQ/s1600-h/mae1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/SgTRLa66eCI/AAAAAAAABg8/2wPXh5uyARQ/s400/mae1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333617852848699426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36124817-6682871876826857535?l=meninamomentos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-05-08T21:41:59.717-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/SgTRLa66eCI/AAAAAAAABg8/2wPXh5uyARQ/s72-c/mae1.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">31</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://meninamomentos.blogspot.com/2009/05/minha-nossas-nossas-maes.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Abril negro</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MomentosDeVida/~3/yyPx1WjyctI/abril-negro.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Menina do Rio)</author><pubDate>Sat, 02 May 2009 17:40:14 PDT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36124817.post-5297181239682890613</guid><description>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Vai-te abril negro. Vai-te!&lt;br /&gt;Venci-te!&lt;br /&gt;Ultrapassei teus dias pesados e tortuosos,&lt;br /&gt;teus caminhos de cactos,&lt;br /&gt;tuas elevações e teus precipícios.&lt;br /&gt;Rompi teus vales e encostas,&lt;br /&gt;sobrevivi aos teus temporais,&lt;br /&gt;cavei-te a terra&lt;br /&gt;com as mãos que ainda me sangram.&lt;br /&gt;E plantei-te a semente&lt;br /&gt;no teu mais profundo ventre,&lt;br /&gt;adubei-a  com tuas folhas mortas,&lt;br /&gt;teus humus e teus estrumes.&lt;br /&gt;Bebi da tua água imunda, respirei fundo&lt;br /&gt;e aguardei a morte - da vida;&lt;br /&gt;pois a semente já estava no teu seio.&lt;br /&gt;Mas findou teu tempo e a morte não me veio,&lt;br /&gt;e a ti, findaram-se os dias.&lt;br /&gt;Visto-me de negro e te choro&lt;br /&gt;porque até mesmo o que nos fere,&lt;br /&gt;nos deixa o vazio e,  de negro,&lt;br /&gt;recolho-me à semente nas tuas entranhas&lt;br /&gt;até que finde o inverno.&lt;br /&gt;Hei de renascer na primavera,&lt;br /&gt;banhar-me ao sol&lt;br /&gt;e expandir-me em verdes&lt;br /&gt;que ao vento se entregam numa&lt;br /&gt;doce carícia até que voltes&lt;br /&gt;para levar-me as folhas,&lt;br /&gt;mas  serei árvore&lt;br /&gt;e me recomporei&lt;br /&gt;a cada estação.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Menina do Rio®&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;Aos meus amigos peço perdão pela ausência,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;mas estes últimos dias foram só de trabalho.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;Aos poucos vou colocando as visitas em dia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;Assim espero...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);  font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-size:13px;"&gt;Um beijo&lt;/span&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/36124817-5297181239682890613?l=meninamomentos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-05-02T21:40:14.968-03:00</app:edited><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">50</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://meninamomentos.blogspot.com/2009/05/abril-negro.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Afagos</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MomentosDeVida/~3/4IK6NWYVnpI/afagos.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Menina do Rio)</author><pubDate>Tue, 21 Apr 2009 22:49:47 PDT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36124817.post-7985377637399683675</guid><description>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;Amo-te assim em mim&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;em ausências de ti, aqui&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O vento que entra pela janela&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;é o mesmo &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;por  onde devolvo-te a saudade&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;que deve tocar-te à tardinha&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Sonho-te,&lt;br /&gt;porque sonhar&lt;br /&gt;é tudo o que me cabe&lt;br /&gt;nessa eternidade que nos faz&lt;br /&gt;tão distantes&lt;br /&gt;e tão infinitamente próximos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Necessito-te,&lt;br /&gt;não tenho a força dos deuses titãs&lt;br /&gt;e me dobro ao vazio das  tuas mãos&lt;br /&gt;que não me chegam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vivo-te,&lt;br /&gt;nas horas de espera&lt;br /&gt;por um afago teu&lt;br /&gt;nas canções que me destes&lt;br /&gt;no silêncio que as vezes&lt;br /&gt;me enlouquece...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;(Menina do Rio)®&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);  font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-size:10px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;Imagem a net&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/Se6YHUvtWYI/AAAAAAAABfI/9YRTVIHfdtI/s1600-h/0085.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 174px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/Se6YHUvtWYI/AAAAAAAABfI/9YRTVIHfdtI/s200/0085.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327362660821195138" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/36124817-7985377637399683675?l=meninamomentos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-04-22T02:49:47.278-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/Se6YHUvtWYI/AAAAAAAABfI/9YRTVIHfdtI/s72-c/0085.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">81</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://meninamomentos.blogspot.com/2009/04/afagos.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Teu beijo</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MomentosDeVida/~3/zj6KktGOONM/teu-beijo.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Menina do Rio)</author><pubDate>Sat, 18 Apr 2009 10:44:33 PDT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36124817.post-2438515827207892059</guid><description>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Me deixas louca&lt;br /&gt;quando tua boca&lt;br /&gt;cola na minha&lt;br /&gt;envolvente&lt;br /&gt;quente...&lt;br /&gt;E quando o teu desejo&lt;br /&gt;pulsa nesse beijo&lt;br /&gt;meu corpo treme&lt;br /&gt;quando gemes&lt;br /&gt;A tua lingua&lt;br /&gt;a passear&lt;br /&gt;na ponta&lt;br /&gt;da minha&lt;br /&gt;sinuosa,&lt;br /&gt;sutil...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;(Menina do Rio)®&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/SeoQ9tSgR_I/AAAAAAAABes/BYOCP5bQ3V8/s1600-h/beijo.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 161px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/SeoQ9tSgR_I/AAAAAAAABes/BYOCP5bQ3V8/s200/beijo.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326088161634306034" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/36124817-2438515827207892059?l=meninamomentos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-04-18T14:44:33.672-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/SeoQ9tSgR_I/AAAAAAAABes/BYOCP5bQ3V8/s72-c/beijo.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">41</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://meninamomentos.blogspot.com/2009/04/teu-beijo.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Bem sei que sabes!</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MomentosDeVida/~3/tEjXy7nftqA/bem-sei-que-sabes.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Menina do Rio)</author><pubDate>Sun, 12 Apr 2009 20:42:29 PDT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36124817.post-3618165872197929121</guid><description>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Do teu querer, vesti-me na ternura&lt;br /&gt;qual brancas plumas, naveguei teu mar&lt;br /&gt;planei meus sonhos na ilusão tão pura&lt;br /&gt;fiz dos teus olhos a luz do meu olhar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah! Quanto amor em forma de prece&lt;br /&gt;nesses gestos teus que são tão meus&lt;br /&gt;nesses versos que minh'alma aquecem&lt;br /&gt;como dádivas vindas de Deus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah!  Meu amor! Se soubesses quanto&lt;br /&gt;de ti trago em minh'alma com fervor&lt;br /&gt;nos versos que escrevo e que te canto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E bem tu sabes das horas em que louca&lt;br /&gt;Ah! Bem sei que sabes, meu amor&lt;br /&gt;morreria por teus olhos e tua boca!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Menina do Rio®&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/SeJRuEtlbhI/AAAAAAAABdU/qRMJ6sz7zeg/s1600-h/Image6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 184px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/SeJRuEtlbhI/AAAAAAAABdU/qRMJ6sz7zeg/s200/Image6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323907561486118418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36124817-3618165872197929121?l=meninamomentos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-04-13T00:42:29.768-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r_ZEcs6mZOg/SeJRuEtlbhI/AAAAAAAABdU/qRMJ6sz7zeg/s72-c/Image6.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">70</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://meninamomentos.blogspot.com/2009/04/bem-sei-que-sabes.html</feedburner:origLink></item><media:rating>nonadult</media:rating></channel></rss>

