To whom I owe the leaping delight

That quickens my senses in our wakingtime

And the rhythm that governs the repose of our sleepingtime,

The breathing in unison

Of lovers whose bodies smell of each other

Who think the same thoughts without need of speech

And babble the same speech without need of meaning.

No peevish winter wind shall chill

No sullen tropic sun shall wither

The roses in the rose-garden which is ours and ours only

-TS Eliot


pez_0714_1 pez_0714_14 PEZ_Pic-Journal_7 pez_0714_18 pez_0714_19 PEZ_Pic-Journal_3 PEZ_Pic-Journal_4 PEZ_Pic-Journal_5 PEZ_Pic-Journal_12 pez_0714_20 PEX_Pic-Journal_2 PEZ_Pic-Journal_11 PEZ_Pic-Journal_6 PEZ_Pic-Journal_9 PEZ_Pic-Journal_13

About The Author


Michelle Campano has been creatively working in Photography, Publishing and Television over the last 8 years. Travel Photography is one of her great passions.