fisher king's wasteland

the sun shines brightly and the air is warm but today, i hate you yesterday was cold and the rain poured down but today - today i hate you the post-rain smells of freshly painted flowers the songs of the birds and the slow stretching of time's lazy yawn the childlike dream of a mid-morning nap after story time as the breeze off the sea gently strokes my cheeks today. i hate you.

Oh absent presence, Stella is not here; False flattering Hope, that with so fair a face Bare me in hand, that in this orphan place, Stella, I say my Stella, should appear: But if your lack of patience be subdued That you could wait for Stella, she might call; Waves' rays would shine back down as she did fall If she had with your details been imbued. [stolen from astrophil and stella #106 ]

why, when tucked snugly into bed nestled in my love's warm arms, underneath soft, heavy spread, with the air-conditioner's charms, hot sighs brushing 'cross us both, the cold, early-morning winds rattle at the window soft, unable to sneak on in through closed windows and locked doors, do i feel an icy chill, spread outwards from wint'ry cave that my savage used to haunt? what could he that memory can't?