by my bedside

"I want to be with those who know secret things or else alone." ~ Rilke

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Delighted the sun (finally)  begged indulgence and my room is a cheerful yellow lucent glow where it touches ( insert smile)! Most heavily without mercy an affront by nature - continuous pouring day after day stretching for more than a week. Granted the cool spate was something of relief, nevertheless, an  insipid  sensation of dampness and gray can heartlessly bore into the pores of one's soul. And true, was it not a few occasions wherein I found myself in the brink of morose? And R said, and much do I agree, that for a lady with  geniality of heart, I accept morose and any expressive taciturn  ( when it visits) with a tenacious grip.

Ah, but today the sun is dancing! Pollens everywhere are rejoicing, spamming themselves in prolific bursts puffed up in the air, reveling in the triumph of light, twirling where the breeze may, then softly landing where chance commands. Quite like my thoughts. 

 My mind in theatrics buttered by the companion of  shadow friends in residence within pages. It was last night when I took this. Yes, as the rains lightly yielded its marble remnants, peacefully I was accompanied by my July opus of inspiration. My muse whispered, "capture the essence of it."  I'm glad I did. ( Insert smile.)