Lady of Turquoise

The turquoise trolley paused at the Gate of the Gods. I breathlessly alit to greet my ever love, my Lady of Turquoise. The majesty of Diana whose ever flexed bow did pass glistened of opal and emerald and charmed our souls, every step a passionate stride, to warm the cockles of our insides. It was Spring, in the midst of the Ides and no way never, never ever did we look away. Rather we chose to watch the stars prance as Pan and thrilled to the trill of his enveloping flute. That day, Mt. Olympus was my home. Reminds Juliet, * 'What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.' My Lady of Turquoise, my rose, was that kind of magic. Indeed, sorcery worthy of Merlin, a name, an aura befitting Olympus, our Olympus of story, an Avalon of timeless glory, a moment in time, if only for the moment. Never, never, not ever anew, not even a winsome glance or two. Spring among the Gods and the season of Turquoise and each roaring step of the mighty Zeus, Hera bejeweled matched by my Lady of Turquoise doth pass, yea, ne'er passed by eyes of my own with fondness regale of that goddess of mine, My Lady of Turquoise and my one day home. *from W. Shakespeare 'Romeo and Juliet'