Oh Grecian maiden, take my hand
and guide me to your Holy Land,
where echoes from a time gone by,
before Olympus' gods did die
sound sweeter than a sacred song.
Responding, my poor heart will long
to sup, with you, the sweet sublime
of legendary love, from time
that Aphrodite walked ashore
and stumbled, new-born, still unsure.
When standing shadow-less and still,
unclothed, not feeling morning chill,
she opened goddess’ eyes with smile,
breathed out her beauty to beguile.
And gracing Grecian island sand,
her touch baptised it: Holy Land!
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Author:
Blue-eyed Bolla (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 27th, 2021 04:47
- Comment from author about the poem: for my love goddess, Lorraine
- Category: Love
- Views: 20
- Users favorite of this poem: Accidental Poet
Offline)
Comments3
'that Aphrodite walked ashore
and stumbled
new-born, still unsure.'
loved the mythological details
you utilised to add even more depth
(a really enjoyable read
thanks for sharing, dear poet)
Thank you. LB.
As you Kevin have baptized this glorious page and us your readers.
thank you, AP
Beautiful words Kevin.
Andy
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