|Young women. Old men should know better.
But at least one god made a fool of himself in this way too.
Or rather makes. Over & over.
Year after year. Again & again.
And this One’s summer is that One’s winter. Just ask One. From Down Under.
Her tears fall and fall in Fall
the leaves of trees
Half a turn
’twill be the turn of
December 21st is the winter solstice, an unequinox. Every year at that time, according to many of the tellings, She begins her long, round trip journey. It is where this poem begins & ends, begins & ends, again, again.
Persephone By Thomas Hart Benton
Persephone sits wan on Hade’s throne
He is old and cold
Lifeless surrounded, smothered, she is alone
Yearns wold, Stay nold
Like a sunflower sun turning for like young burning
but buried alive inside she soundless screams
Azureless vault, Munch, and suttee
Guinevere, are these to be her adharma’s themes?
Like a doe, like a peregrine, like a feline Kore queen
To, not from, to flee
Life, laughter, love, sun and shine, see, be seen
Hades sits alone his throne. Joylessly, jealously, Persephone
Hoarded like Fáfnir’s gold
Lies buried alive in memory, his misery miserly
Whealed, old, corpse cold
Hades and Persephone by Ashramart http://ashramart.deviantart.com/
For The Otaku Veela Her Own Elf Self