I am Kate Bush on the Mountain

Into the balmy blue of a spring wind. Premature and devouring. Earth air grows green in the midday lens. Some kind of humbug illusion. I came dressed for adventure. Where were you? I waited. Watched for south winds that would lay waste my garden if unprepared. Oh, but I’m prepared. Goggles, snorkel, antennae, poems. My pockets are full. Of wouldn't-you-like-to-know. I even brushed my hair. Wore that sweet two-piece you said you'd like, though you can’t tell under my layers. Aquamarine. Flimsy as the sky. For your eyes only. What say you, lover man? You promised me a good time. Where the bloody hell are you?