Will I Never Learn?

Apparently not. In forty years I've not found the right way to gauge whether a gentle leg pulling will send Ada ballistic or not... She is greeting me with stony silence, leaving me in no doubt that I have met with her displeasure. This makes me sad...

And contemplating the subject of sadness, I sat here in my lonely corner this afternoon and wrote the following lines...

From A Sad Cad

Bojour, tristesse! If you translate the phrase
into English, its poetry is lost. I defy
anyone to find two more perfect words
with which to express the same emotion,
implying, as these do, that happiness has fled.
A door has been opened to a vista devoid of joy.
Colours dim, sensations of mind and body
are dulled, and the world grinds to a halt.
Where is the key which will wind it's spring, start
cogs and wheels whirring, and rebuild
those foundations on which content depends?
Could it be no more than communication?
Another step towards understanding
the workings of imperfect human minds?