{"id":14657,"date":"2012-09-12T05:30:11","date_gmt":"2012-09-12T03:30:11","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/libelul.com\/?p=14657"},"modified":"2012-09-12T00:13:51","modified_gmt":"2012-09-11T22:13:51","slug":"le-miel-de-lannee","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/libelul.com\/?p=14657","title":{"rendered":"Le miel de l’ann\u00e9e"},"content":{"rendered":"

Moi j’ai l’impression d’avoir pass\u00e9 l’\u00e9t\u00e9 \u00e0 butiner.
\nDe fleurs en fleurs, j’ai fait une overdose de pollen.<\/p>\n

Images, parfums, \u00e9motions,
\nUne collection de nectars intenses et sucr\u00e9s,
\nQue je vais maintenant essayer de transformer,
\nEn miels cr\u00e9meux, presque cristallis\u00e9s,
\nPour faire honneur \u00e0 tous ces d\u00e9licats moments pass\u00e9s.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Abeille \u00e0 Bagatelle – Ao\u00fbt 2012<\/p>\n

Et maintenant que je suis rentr\u00e9e,
\nJe retrouve enfin cette envie d\u00e9vorante de raconter,
\nApr\u00e8s avoir pass\u00e9 l’\u00e9t\u00e9 sans \u00e9crire une seule ligne,
\nComme si mon corps lui savait, qu’il me fallait vivre,
\nPour avoir des histoires \u00e0 inventer.<\/p>\n

Et vous, avez-vous stock\u00e9 de jolis souvenirs cet \u00e9t\u00e9 ?<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"\"\"<\/a>

Moi j’ai l’impression d’avoir pass\u00e9 l’\u00e9t\u00e9 \u00e0 butiner. De fleurs en fleurs, j’ai fait une overdose de pollen. Images, parfums, \u00e9motions, Une collection de nectars intenses et sucr\u00e9s, Que je vais maintenant essayer de transformer, En miels cr\u00e9meux, presque cristallis\u00e9s, Pour faire honneur \u00e0 tous ces d\u00e9licats moments pass\u00e9s. Abeille \u00e0 Bagatelle – Ao\u00fbt 2012 […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[38],"tags":[396],"class_list":["post-14657","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-mes-humeurs-et-concours","tag-pensees"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/posPp-3Op","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/libelul.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14657","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/libelul.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/libelul.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/libelul.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/libelul.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=14657"}],"version-history":[{"count":8,"href":"https:\/\/libelul.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14657\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":14663,"href":"https:\/\/libelul.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14657\/revisions\/14663"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/libelul.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=14657"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/libelul.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=14657"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/libelul.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=14657"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}