Tag Archives: mythology

Sphinxes

You have seen desire
In a lover’s eye
Kindle then die.
You survived the fire
But I know well
That you have no riddle to tell.

Yet had you something to say
To those who pass your way
It would concern
A flame that does burn
Unrequited, for whom or what
I know not,
Or perhaps I hide
Inside the sphinx
Who can see
But will not reveal
The real
Me.

This poem was inspired by a visit to Crystal Palace Park, which contains a number of sphinxes https://memoirsofametrogirl.com/2017/01/08/crystal-palace-park-sphinxes-restored-history/

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Libidinous

Nature is libidinous they say.
Yet on my way
Through the woods today
No nymphs did I spy.

Though perchance
They performed a hidden dance
Amongst the budding tree
But not for me.

Loss

Shall I compete
With high-heeled feet
As the gods look down
And snigger or frown?

Aphrodite is flighty
Yet I have thought her divine
And from time to time
Still worship at her shrine.

Nymphs suppress a sigh
And smile.
They will, for a little while
Stay
Though they long to hie
Away.

Gloss
May conceal the crack of age.
I am at a loss
But should learn
To turn
Over a new page
For this stage
Is a temporary thing
And I am without a ring

I Met A Mermaid

I met a mermaid
Who said “be
Not staid,
But come play with me
In yonder raging sea.

We will go
With the flow.
Do not say
No,
For you may have your way
With me
In yonder raging sea”.

So
I went with the flow
And both mermaid and me
Made free,
And drowned in that sea.

Do Those Who Drink Of Lethe

Do those who drink of Lethe
Find surcease
From pain?
Or do they wrack their brain
In a vain
Attempt to regain
What is forever, lost?

O to be free of regret
And forever forget
A life ill spent.
But what cost
To drink
Of Lethe and no more think,
But merely to do
As like some automaton
We wander through
Hades
Where memory fades
And days are as one.

The departed are gone
But know it not, or perhaps they do
As tears may break through
When half remembered years
Enter the head
Of the living dead.

All men meet the ferryman, but not all fear
The guide
Who carries us to the other side.
It is Lethe drear
That inspires most dread.
The Greeks said
That the ferryman comes before we quench our thirst
In Lethe’s waters.
But no, ‘Tis not always so
For sons and daughters are left behind
When loved ones find
The river where memory fractures, before the body dies.

Some Find Their Muse In Forests Green

Some find their muse in forests green
Where the nymph (so rarely seen)
Is brought to life on paper.
Many a romantic caper
Takes place on virgin page,
That pristine stage
Where maid
Is forever staid.

Other poets reach their sweating hand
Towards the lone phone,
So as to command
For a while,
A nymph’s enigmatic smile