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The Baby in the Manger

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I see all those vibrant colors Of the many beautiful decors I taste all those sumptuous flavors As I ate our dinner's main course They were glad when they opened The expensive gifts I gave them I was ecstatic when I opened The things they gave me as presents But something deep within Was peculiarly missing I wonder what might be that thing If I have everything All the extravagance, the excesses All the exuberance, the decadence But it seems as though All these are nonsense For a void is still felt Like a dark hollow thing That needs to be dealt For its echoes are deafening I asked myself What do I need to know? Or to do or to imbibe? For happiness to overflow What do I need to uncover? What answer am I looking for? And then I remember The baby in the manger Out of humility and love He came here on earth From the heavens above Through a simple rebirth No extravagance, no excess No exuberance, no decadence But it all so certainly Made a lot of sense It was plain, simple But it all be

Manor of Memories

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 I would love to have a home Somewhere along the rolling hills Overlooking the perfect cone And the pretty port of Legazpi Birds and insects regale The plateau with several Of their pulsating madrigals That sound exceptional As one peers over the scenery He'll be blown away by what he sees The azure sky and the cerulean sea Both whisper serenity It will be a Spanish villa With multicolored hues Of Psychedelia Filipina Which enliven the milieu One would often think That this place is amazing With the prairie that was slightly And refinedly undulating The gentle winds From the vast Pacific Perfected by the violins Emit carefree music The pencil pines, The willows and the vines Under the golden sunshine Appear exalted and divine Spanish Villa by Fratantoni Interior Designers. But there inside Was a simple shrine Where images to remember Hang to last forever It was not the beauty Of the manor or the setting That makes the villa a home Instead, the moments to reminisce That emanate blis

Hell Is An Exuberant Castle

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The Hall of Mirrors at Amalienburg / Steve Jurvetson / Wiki Commons Hell is an exuberant castle With lavish garden, flowing stream, Interiors painted in pastel As though one enters a splendid dream Found in the deep forest Not only is it magnificent Everything from east to west Is luxurious and decadent Its impressionist paintings Are gracefully moving People and animals constantly doing Laughing, conversing, and prancing Everything is animated Cast in pastel shades of rococo Its guests are constantly fed With saffron, truffle, belgian cocoa They, too, are immensely satisfied With the most expensive wines And the finest, most divine Of all fruits and berries worldwide Classical music, jazz, bossa nova Filled all of its gracious, spacious halls There's enough room for everyone And even more inside its soaring walls And down the bedrooms Are soothing, relaxing scents Rose petals, lavenders loom Everywhere, all around, the aromas transcend As the guests gradually blow The dulcet ligh

Romantic Beige Sand Beaches Near Mayon Volcano

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  We were entranced... We sailed the eastern seas off the coast of Albay Province for our weekend getaway. Every time we see a beige sand beach common in the area, the enigmatic Mayon Volcano peers over the scenery. There were many of these beaches, appearing every once in a while, with the dazzling volcano in each and every view. I will never forget this past weekend for each turn had a magnificent scene looming in the horizon --- from isle to isle, from coast to coast, from beach to beach! Tambilagao Port Tambilagao Port We drove from our hometown Daraga, Albay setting off to our main destination, Namanday Island Resort . After making our way to Cagraray Island via Sula Bridge, I felt as though we already left the country. I've never been outside Luzon Island since before the pandemic so leaving Luzon already feels like traveling abroad. On Cagraray Island, we saw magnificent views of the many islands dotting the eastern seas of Albay, but it was the Tambilagao Port where the get