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365 Sonnets is completed! While there be no more new posts, feel free to read the sonnets and comment! :)

You can read my new poetry at Some Turbid Night: http://someturbidnight.blogspot.ca/ :)

Monday, March 24, 2008

Sonnet LXXXIV

Persephone had painted all their heads
with artists’ eyes and nature’s finest brush.
In tow she had her paints and gentle touch,
to lightly prod and colour flower beds.

But what did she become? The Queen of Death.
Forced under earth to rule a new abode.
Instead of birds she heard sad, dismal odes,
instead of spreading life she smothered breath.

The virtuous work of poor Persephone
was lost to greed. While mothers mourned she thrived,
to new endeavours solemnly belied.
And lost in seasons, died to history.

But plants live on, eternally un-dead,
collecting bitter tears the Muses shed.

3 comments:

  1. (I know this sounds repetitive, but) Gosh, this puts a new view on things. You're getting better, Mike.

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  2. That is very true. Poor, poor Persephone. Walt Disney even made a movie on her. But it has to be that way, for how else can you explain the appearance of winter?

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  3. Aw thanks Alice :)

    Disney is cool and which one is it? I've never seen it but I love mythology so I'll have to go rent it. The Greeks were really smart with that myth though, agreed!

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A word is dead
When it is said,
Some say.

I say it just
Begins to live
That day.

- Emily Dickinson

Thanks, Wordle!