Thursday, March 20, 2008

Spring Loaded

That's right friends n' neighbors - today is the first day of Spring. Happy Vernal Equinox to y'all! We've also got a full moon coming on strong, so I'll have myself put in lock-down mode soon. Wouldn't want to frighten any neighborhood animals (except maybe that pesky, incessantly yappy little rat of a purse dog that runs all over the place).

I'm feeling much better, thank you. Told you I was a tough old gypsy. I've missed walking the past couple of days, and my sis sent me some nifty new socks, so I'm ready to hit the path again.

But, Springtime. Even if the weather is crappy, it just makes me itch to get outdoors. Everything changes so fast in the Spring that it's a shame to miss a moment of it. Buds shift and stretch in a sleepy sprout, leaves yawn and unfurl, blossoms jump and whirl like so many Kossack dancers. In short, the world comes alive!

This time of year always puts me in mind of my favorite Christopher Marlowe poem. Some theorists claim that Marlowe and Shakespeare were one in the same man, but that's neither here nor there. It's a great poem no matter who penned it. The very simple, "come live with me and be my love" speaks to my own bent toward simplicity in terms of looking for a mate. Flowers, jewels, and proclamations do little for me. But, I swear to all the gods, if some fine fellow ever looked me in the eye and quietly uttered, "Come live with me and be my love." It would be all over with for me.

The Passionate Sheperd to His Love
Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That valleys, groves, hills, and fields,
Woods, or steepy mountain yields.

And we will sit upon the rocks,
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.

And I will make thee beds of roses
And a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle;

A gown made of the finest wool
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Fair lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold;

A belt of straw and ivy buds,
With coral clasps and amber studs:
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me and be my love.

The shepherds' swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May morning:
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my love.

~Christopher Marlowe

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