Acadain Foods. Hestia might find fit and perfect
might she find thyme to set before her servants?
The shore were Neptune watches the beauty's:
who makes show to his liking. There might Hestia
ask Pluto to bless me with favor, and she must ask
Tyche for my luck and future. We wish to endeavor
as owners of the lighthouse, In spring might we
feed the hungry. In summers might we entertain. In
Fall might we share harvest, and in winter might
we look to tomorrow until spring.Might Hestia
find us worthy.In her sight might what we offer
be pleasing: and might Vishvakarman bless us
with both place to worship and residence.
So that Hebe-hebe's cup might over flow with
honey and nectar: to stain the golden floors of
Ceraon and Matton! In the ears of a pleased
Bragi and Meret who might sit quiet to listening
to beautiful music and song!
Gestin must smile in delight as she kisses Lono
that he has found his true love blessed by Hathor
might he be alone no more: but with her in love!
You are Alexander the Great upon
my Gordian Knot that Misery has
wrapped me in. A swift cut placed
with expert precision, pragmatic.
You are Hebe, ladling the sweet
ambrosia of your love into my
ever parched goblet, drinking
desperately your honeyed passion.
You are the Siren song, taunting
me to untie myself from the moors
of iron and wood, begging me to
listen to your poisoned anthem.
You are Greek Myths, my love.
You are the universal game of
millions and millions of atoms
colliding and recolliding together.
You are nothing but yourself.
The Southern Cross’ trajectory across
the night sky marks the hours that come to pass.
Her prone figure no longer an hourglass;
by the silvery light of Phoebe’s* gloss.
I cling to the edge of the bed, toss
and turn—my reminiscing turns to farce.
Hebe† has long since fled and passion is sparse.
As inscriptions on wedding rings embossed:
‘May our love last forever and a day.’
Eos, turn me into a cicada black!‡
Unlike lovesick Orpheus,** I’m not fey
and I would definitely not turn back
for another round of intimate play.
As lover, she had given me the sack!
I endure constant flak
from my mates down at the pub over pint
that I’m in a terrific moral bind;
inspiration is slack.
If only we could turn back aging clock:
Oh, Selene,†† you might espy lovers who flock
to her bed and lose track.
Handsomely heroic
Half human heavyweight
Hera hates, harries him
Hacks hideous hydras
Hunts horrid Hades hound
Hippolyta heister
Hitches honey, Hebe
—————
For the “Greek mythology” Poetry Contest”
Sponsored by Joseph May
Syllables checked with HowManySyllables.com
Written on 02/25/2022
Reaching into the nighttime sky
Venus took the moon within her hands
And placed it gently in her bed.
She hid it there from Hebe
To keep it for herself.
But Nemesis found the glowing orb,
And just to make amends,
She took a slice and placed it back.
A message she would send.
Now we see the darkest hole
Where once the moon did shine.
And, slowly see the moonlight grow
As Nemesis decides
to make it full for all to see
where forever it resides.
Proteus beneath our wheels,
shapeshifting God of the Underworld hungers,
longing for music as laughter,
stars that sparkle in young eyes.
He takes what Hebe gifts,
lacking such grace Himself.
Wheels pass:
Proteus sleeps,
sated until the next passing,
waking with a song to feed again.
After four weeks working with a group of goddesses,
two of them Greek, I’m reviewing my religious options,
and considering a return to the old Greek religion:-
Give me that old Greek religion
Give me that old Greek religion
Give me that old Greek religion
It’s good enough for me
I will worship one Athena
You’d know why if you had seen ’er
With a bountiful demeanour
And she’s good enough for me
I will worship goddess Hebe
For with her you get a freebie
That gives you the Hebe jeeby
And she’s good enough for me
I will worship Aphrodite
She’s beautiful but flighty
And she goes round in her nighty
But she’s good enough for me
I will worship goddess Rania
Like the fairy queen Titania
So enchanting they should ban ya
But you’re good enough for me
We should worship one called Stella
She’d be adored by every fella
And we’d all sing a capella:
“She’s good enough for me!”
With your old Godfather Zeus
If they don’t give you fair dues
He’ll make an offer they can’t refuse
And that’s good enough for me
I looked in the mirror and shook at the knees
T’was enough to give a gal, the Hebe jibes
Where was that young girl men looked at with glee
Who was that old ding bat, No that couldn’t be me
Wrinkled old prune with aching vertebrae
Mutton dressed as lamb in a silly red beret
You’ve got to be dreaming, it’s a temporary disguise
Wake up girlie, time passes, the mirror never lies
I’d like to be the girl who still should be there
But with her, past memories, I just cannot share
Inside I’m still that youngster filled with jeux de vie
No use complaining of things that used to be
So get on with it gal with no tantrums or sighs
Dress to the nines and remember to exercise
Don’t worry if gorgeous hunks no longer at your stare
Find lots of new beginnings and great moments to share
That mirrors very sneaky folks and it will come visit you
So embrace life who cares about a wrinkle or two!
I am the father of gods, the Olympian family and of mortals
The protector of the sky, soil and sea; heights and human race
Lord and lover of eagles and oak tree; aegis my mighty metals
A just judge, with a merciful mind with a firm, friendly face.
The youngest yet, the sweetest son of Cronus and Rhae…tall Titans;
The brother of Poseidon, Hades, Hesta, Hera and Demeter… deities,
For freedom, I fought my father and his followers…terrible Titans,
And set my siblings free from the cage of Cronus who dodged duties.
The protector of the weak, the punisher of the wicked and mercy-mania;
Winning all wars but one… I am the husband of Hera, my sweet sister,
Father of gods and goddesses: Ares, Hebe, Hephaestus and Eileithyia,
Lived a loosed life with women, fell for so many flowers…a trickster.
I am the Zealous Zeus, god of rain, gatherer of the cloud and thunder,
I an the zealous Zeus, the father of charming and cheerful children,
I am the zealous zeus, the husband of the immortal and mortal mothers,
I am the zealous zeus, the mentor of all mighty, merciful and mild men.
All around I hear the sound of bird song.
As I sit and rest awhile;
In my special place within my garden still.
Sun glistening through the archway.
Dancing upon the lawn.
Insects flittering from
leaf to leaf.
The sound of bees humming around the Hebe,
Going about their daily chores.
The warm sunshine lays upon my face.
As I hear a cuckoo; and somewhere
people laughing.
Music softly playing from
a neighbours open window…
I sit here in the gazebo and take it all within,
And sigh with blissful abandonment
of absolute happiness;
In this very precious moment of calm...
Denise Doe
the gravity pulled
the heart pulled down,sound me out
count the law as force