Monday, March 21, 2022


 Plagued with grief and worry,
bitter pain seized the heart of the harvest mother.
The Underworld lord had fallen for -
Fallen for her darling Kore.
She left the sky
and searched the night, by torch.

Eleusian field. Careful plans. Fragrant traps.
By the hand of Hades, she was rapt.
Snatched up in the chariot.
Her dark abductor clasped the reigns,
commanded every horse by name -
through dark and deadly sulphurous caves.
The queens would shriek in vain
He was to make an unwilling bride that day.
When cast into a steaming well,
his sceptre opened the gates of hell.
Mother nature aghast (the tales will tell)
onto Earth, a lifeless shadow fell.
Shock and shame gave way to grief.
The deadly lord stole the golden wreath -
made her submit and be his dark bride-queen.
He was to let her go, but she tasted seven seeds below
so she must return, part of every year, 
as law had ruled it so.


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