by cassandra » Fri Jan 13, 2017 6:33 pm
Ah yes, the delightful Cassandra. Even so, delightful creature that I am, I am often let down and this time may be no different. Yet another I request I sent off today asking where, oh where, is the promised documentation? No answers yet. Perhaps she had a moment of madness, a fantasy of success - it comes to us all on occasion. She's been lifted. She's dead. She's been sectioned. She's decided not to share. She bought an island in the sun. She . . . Who knows? Perhaps I no longer delight her.
Perhaps she was invited into Belinda's Garden and Mistress Indigo, the fifth, like Spenser's Faerie Queen, allows no mortal to return unchanged.
As with belief and faith, I shall cling to hope in the face of relentless doubt, steadfast in the way of the sure and certain reception, and await her promised coming through the Avalon mists of an early Mid-Winter morning.
I rather fancy though, like Spenser, I shall awake "and find me on the cold hillside."
Cassie. Z.