THE CRONE'S CANTERBURY
General Prologue: Love and Patience
met the crone from the Wife of Bath while she gathered
coriander from the Chitern Hills green pastures. They
smelt the crone's aura, for she had a familial scent
when the South Wind blew. Love and Patience spoke of
their courtly love, and the dilemma of who they were
in the partiarchal system. The wise crone empathized
as she listened to her sisters.
Flowing copper locks and chestnut brown
eyes, enhanced the bridge of Love's Germanic nose. Long
oak hair and verdant eyes, captured Patience's wound
scar over her left brow.
The Crone's Tale:
After a decade of dream dormancy, Love and Patience
awakened. Hallucinating and drinking mead was the problem,
they thought. No. The problem was the inevitable reality
that two crones who role played as nights were not allowed
to fall into love's trap and still keep their day jobs
or lives. They simply refused to understand anything,
but their perception of what was love.
Battling the Anglo-Saxons at Hastings,
Patience and Love, Norman French Knights, met and fell
madly in love. Wounded over the left eye, Love tended
to Patience. Crones are healers; so a remedy in order,
Love cleaned the gash with salt and gave Patience cinnamon
tea her favourite. As she helped her lover, they thought
the chivalry would alleviate strife; they were wrong
since the perpetuating evil was not past warriors.
Love and Patience were beside themselves
in confused bliss. Raven the Medieval, flew the crones
messages on the second Imbolg (February), for the fire
festival has begun. Cringing and raging as Ego and Jealousy
read the dreadful message: learning the lady crones
were in love. How could this be conceivable?
"It was forbidden. We controlled
it, didn't we? Wizards could experience (love) but not...crones
who masqueraded as knights. Love and Patience knew they
had to follow the Knight's code except showing off their
Caritas, spiritual love or even Cupiditas, earthly love.
Their audacity for love and defeating our potion would
be their damnation, Ego and Jealousy screamed and chuckled."
Wrinkled faces and grey locks of hair,
these alchemists and third cousins of Merlin, the magician,
conjured up in their blood, honey boiling cauldron the
hoaxed potion. They told Raven the Medieval to fight
the wind's howls and reply that the wizards wanted to
meet them that evening. Wanting to share their red feelings,
Patience and Love travelled to Black Wood's sacred circle
where Ego and Jealousy deceitfully waited. They went
back to the wizards after a comatose decade for help
again; even though Love and Patience did not know their
wizard past life friends
were now epitomies of Ego and Jealousy.
Eager to inebriate the merry crones,
the attacking bloody wizards offered them mead. A hurling
electrical thunderstorm engrossed the Black Woods. Lightning
struck Love in the lower spine; then the smell of coriander
flushed her senses and heard Athena, the goddess of
wisdom who changed into the Wife of Bath's crone and
"Call your ordained horses and
leave. Poison in the mead was your necessary evil. Gallop
to Wessex and when you reached the meandering river,
Thames, recite your mother tongue verse and let your
Dodging the fierce lightning bolts,
Ego and Jealousy were hugging the stalagmite in the
blue humid cave when Athena appeared and dispersed their
livers to the wild dogs...
The auburn coloured stallions delivered
Patience and Love where Athena predicted, and the red
orange dawn gave them the ideal yellow mood for both
had to read vows for their souls and hearts:
"You are the secret of the
silver moon's glow.
Forgive the green battle of the past
And Keats' roses are your natural smiles.
But you are a Raven's feather
Who will return to earth's dark womb.
Vermillion wine is our ritual,
And Egypt's frankensense is immortal."
After they read their vows and passionately
kissed, Athena smiled and gave Love and Patience a silver
Pentangle, for it was all the truth they needed when
the potion clouded their red senses; the second dream
consciosness would reawaken them in a beautiful and
tolerable life in a bed of coriander.
* * *