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	<title>NotOverTheHill ::  scoop3sjc :: Blogs</title> 
	<link>http://notoverthehill.com/user/scoop3sjc/blogs</link> 
	<description>some descr about blogs</description>
	<item>
		<title><![CDATA[Beginning In Splendor]]></title>
		<link>http://notoverthehill.com/blog/view/id_10465</link>
		<description><![CDATA[  Beginning In Splendor Mist drapes and dawn rises towards the beckoning day. While standing still you can see Aurora rise to greet you capped by a veil of sun. The clouds seem alive softened by a yel]]></description>
		<pubDate>Fri, 23 Apr 2010 20:45:33 -0500</pubDate>
	</item>
	<item>
		<title><![CDATA[Divinity And Dragonflies]]></title>
		<link>http://notoverthehill.com/blog/view/id_10429</link>
		<description><![CDATA[  Divinity And Dragonflies Goddess of mountain meadow and stream, maiden, chrysalis of woman, nymph of dragonflies and buttercups,   I am Naiad, spirit of the glade who dares to dance with moonbeams, ]]></description>
		<pubDate>Fri, 16 Apr 2010 11:54:45 -0500</pubDate>
	</item>
	<item>
		<title><![CDATA[Escape To Freedom]]></title>
		<link>http://notoverthehill.com/blog/view/id_10330</link>
		<description><![CDATA[  Escape To Freedom Hull that leaks, an escape to freedom no guarantee.  On the open sea strife and hunger fight a duel over lives.   The specter of death hovers and haunts the morning light, rides th]]></description>
		<pubDate>Mon, 29 Mar 2010 11:33:47 -0500</pubDate>
	</item>
	<item>
		<title><![CDATA[The Old Trunk]]></title>
		<link>http://notoverthehill.com/blog/view/id_10307</link>
		<description><![CDATA[Smells of lavender greet my nose. I see a wedding dress and lacy veil, nestled baby clothes hand-stitched by nuns cloistered in some far off town, letters worn with faded script tied with ribbons fray]]></description>
		<pubDate>Thu, 25 Mar 2010 21:56:41 -0500</pubDate>
	</item>
	<item>
		<title><![CDATA[Time In Slow Motion]]></title>
		<link>http://notoverthehill.com/blog/view/id_10258</link>
		<description><![CDATA[Time In Slow Motion I walk the brightly lit and bustling halls alone, noise all around but the silence is deafening.   I watch the hands move slowly, mired in time.  People are everywhere and the worl]]></description>
		<pubDate>Fri, 19 Mar 2010 11:42:35 -0500</pubDate>
	</item>
	<item>
		<title><![CDATA[The Veteran]]></title>
		<link>http://notoverthehill.com/blog/view/id_10213</link>
		<description><![CDATA[  The Veteran The aged veteran looks across the monument erected there, buried glimpses of another day sweep into mind, his soul laid bare.   Conceal the anguish buried deep, he's hidden it away so lo]]></description>
		<pubDate>Mon, 15 Mar 2010 20:26:05 -0500</pubDate>
	</item>
	<item>
		<title><![CDATA[Let It Be]]></title>
		<link>http://notoverthehill.com/blog/view/id_10186</link>
		<description><![CDATA[  Let It Be Myopic, he peered through wire-rimmed granny glasses and wore his "haircut heard 'round the world', a true hippie look.   Life a long whispered track, he was determined to pursue his dream]]></description>
		<pubDate>Thu, 11 Mar 2010 16:40:19 -0600</pubDate>
	</item>
	<item>
		<title><![CDATA[Grieving Loss]]></title>
		<link>http://notoverthehill.com/blog/view/id_10165</link>
		<description><![CDATA[Grieving Loss Brave men committed to their ideal plunge their planes into buildings in Washington and Manhattan killing many thousands including themselves.   Brave men committed to their ideals plung]]></description>
		<pubDate>Wed, 10 Mar 2010 12:21:07 -0600</pubDate>
	</item>
	<item>
		<title><![CDATA[Manhatten Madness]]></title>
		<link>http://notoverthehill.com/blog/view/id_10126</link>
		<description><![CDATA[  Manhatten Madness Mayhem marks the moment, terror strikes the city's heart. A nation mourns outraged, promises retaliation.   Children cling fearfully, parents hold on tenaciously, anger dark and de]]></description>
		<pubDate>Thu, 04 Mar 2010 13:15:52 -0600</pubDate>
	</item>
	<item>
		<title><![CDATA[Magic Moments]]></title>
		<link>http://notoverthehill.com/blog/view/id_10100</link>
		<description><![CDATA[  Magic Moments Feathers with bright primary colors droop in splendor on the page, a gift of joy from a special child.   Crayola colors not quite in the lines, wrinkled page clutched tightly in grubby]]></description>
		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Mar 2010 17:38:09 -0600</pubDate>
	</item>
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