Dedicated to my friend Tony Humbugs Westkamper and his lovely wife Hadassah
The aging entomologist won his fair lady not with blandishments of youth – dancing, archery, bumpers of beer, dark-side adventures , or concerted rock,
but strolling in fog-shrouded woods, under firs, slow musing in dripping shadows near the slipping down of purling waters,
wooed her with words, lyrical on bees, beetles, damselflies and dragonflies.
Ladies of lesser degree would not succumb to sweetened tongue, his kind eyes shining with lust for fairy dust on butterfly wings, beetle battles, light, life.
In these years love flows slower, honeyed; deliciousness is different than before.
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This article appears in ‘A Comedy of Errors’.