three

Aphrodite spins new spring from summer grown cold
as sweet green boughs sweep and surround
Pan as he dances, strange life renewed and bold
he waits to watch as they sit, speak and gaze around.

His heart-song spills harmony upon the quiet of the dell
as each mourned moment crests barely before pains dew,
Adams son toils before storm and smile to tell
Eve’s beauty that whispers and teases his soul to renew.

Encircling arms dare to hold with lips to taste of fondest desire
from honeyed scents that seems fey, to dance with cupids beat;
Aretemis’ arrows fly with deeds promised sincere
While Morpheus echoes the ache leaping easy from his seat.

Daring him to speak of dreams as Eos breaks the dawn
She wanders where she will as his daimon yearns to play;
Hathor rises spilling starlight laughter from her summer throne
and he wonders if heaven’s smile grants him gentle grace to stay.

Thundering with purple wings Boreas comes, his time is now;
but his heart with light bleeding, the boy doesn’t bow.

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