Carol gave blood today so it was a good excuse to go to Longhorn for lunch six-ounce sirloins, salad, potatoes with cooked mushrooms and onions for topping. Carol is walking in the park, you are waiting and will do your exercises at home – a cold clear day – arthritis is acting up. On another subject, lately around bedtime you get the vibes, mostly a wish to see the muse dancing within – assume she is, boy. Place her from soul to heart. Let her dance around the lit candle set on the stone floor. – Amorella
I am thinking of my Canterbury Cathedral photo of the candle placement at the mark of Saint Augustine’s Bishop’s Chair or the Shrine to Archbishop Thomas Beckett. Perhaps the chair and shrine were placed at the same location at different times.
The point is the dancing muse, boy, not the saints. – Amorella
For my own clarification Wikipedia says:
“Those . . . suggest that [the cathedra: the chair] may have been used to crown the kings of Kent. Canterbury Cathedral, in which the cathedra is housed, maintains that the chair was once part of the furnishings of the shrine of St. Thomas Becket, since dismantled. Since antiquity, it is always used in the triple enthronement of an Archbishop of Canterbury.”
From: Wikipedia
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Carol is going upstairs to watch Hawaii Five O while DVRing Castle and Smash. This is after you both watched several shows on the DVR.
I want this scene to be what I want all the scenes to be.
** **
Scene 5, Chapter 8, Book 4
Merlyn took two stealthy steps forward and with his left hand and astutely touched the back of Arthur’s right shoulder.
Surprised, Arthur turned, “Merlyn. How do you do this? Catching me unaware.”
Merlyn pointed, “Let’s sit on the stone and talk my young man.”
Quickly settled and glancing towards the foliage and the water trickling down into the far end of the wee pond, the two sat appearing as two unidentifiable old men on a bench in a far from natural setting.
“You manifest a troubled mind, Arthur. Care to talk about it?”
“I cannot bring myself to see Guinevere.”
Merlyn grinned with understanding. “Women are as troubling in a man’s death as well as they were in his life.”
Prefacing with a laugh Arthur shot forth, “I see it is the same with you too, Merlyn.”
“Only a moment ago, my king. A moment ago I brushed my lips at Vivien’s stilled veins and brought us both to the thoughts of life.”
“You startled her as well?”
“I was the air and enveloped her whole in the enchantment.”
He mischievously joked, “Did you used your mouth to swallow her from foot to head?” Were I a shaman, thought Arthur, what wonders could I do to touch good Guinevere’s heart.
“My wind laden lips barely affected the small hairs on her smoothly feminine neck. I wished to raise them straight out, but she possesses her own heartansoulanmind, not I.”
“It must be strange for one such as you who can control the ends of heaven and earth but cannot master a this single woman’s desires.”
Smiling devilishly Merlyn replied, “With this affliction no man is alone, young Arthur.” He paused, setting a darkening tone, “I control nothing but my own self. This World of the Dead is as disconcerting as is the World of the Living. I live one foot in each every moment.”
“How is this, Merlyn? To be two places at once?”
“I am more than many places in the moment. It lends to no speculation and imagination cannot be born in such an exercise.”
“Are you talking with me in your mind as you talk with Vivian in your heart? Is that a small bit of how it is?”
Merlyn quietly laughed at the innocence of the suggestion, pointed to his dark eyes and said, “I can enclose a page and metaphor, alone, with these two immortal novelled sockets on either side of this nose that no more exists than you do, my liege; yet here we are in a conversation that began with women, the echoes of sex who put us here in the first place.”
Arthur drew on the dawning sobriety and asked, “Where have you been, Merlyn? What do you do to stir a rebellion only rumored of in Avalon?”
***
There you are, boy. Not what you expected I see. – Amorella
I thought the Muse would dance more naked than this.
Your passions grow deeper than you like to imagine, my living friend. Post. - Amorella
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