boracay island

IMG_0044
Originally uploaded by mintpink*

beach paradise :) gotta visit this picturesque island once in your life..it's teeming with tourists all year long, foreigners and locals alike. can't wait to be back here! ^^

girl by the beach

the sUnsEt bEhinD...
Originally uploaded by mintpink*

pretty in yellow

yellow
Originally uploaded by mintpink*

silence speaks*

busay,cebu
Originally uploaded by mintpink*

island in the sky

island in the sky
Originally uploaded by mintpink*

lahug, cebu boondocks

-Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening-

Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village, though;

He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it's queer

To stop without a farmhouse near

Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake

To ask if there's some mistake.

The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

How do I love thee?

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

The Book of Counted Sorrows

-Dark Rivers of the Heart by Dean Koontz-

All of us are travelers lost,

our tickets arranged at a cost

unknown but beyond our means.

This odd itinerary of scenes

--enigmatic, strange, unreal--

leaves us unsure how to feel.

No postmortem journey is rife
with more mystery than life.

Tremulous skeins of destiny

flutter so ethereally

around me--but then I feel
its embrace is that of steel.

On the road that I have taken,

one day, walking, I awaken,

amazed to see where I have come,
where I'm going, where I'm from.

This is not the path I thought.

This is not the place I sought.

This is not the dream I bought,
just a fever of fate I've caught.

I'll change highways in a while,

at the crossroads, one more mile.

My path is lit by my own fire.

I'm going only where I desire.
On the road that I have taken,

one day, walking, I awaken.

One day, walking, I awaken,
on the road that I have taken.