Lykeia
The bane of summer with its leaching rays
Draws ever closer in the waxing days
Where once I rested my head upon the pillow of her breast
Oh the sweet cream beneath my parched lips
And she cupped the nectar of spring flowers within her hands
And tipped that wine
Down
Upon my tongue
Now lamenting arms cannot keep me
As Helios lingers high above the world
The tender green withering beneath his gaze
So too do my fruitless arms
Unsteady in their youth
Turn back with a sigh to the earth
To sleep
To die
I am a blossomless sprout
Fair for its brief breath
And the fragile charm of sweetest days
I return ever to the bosom of our mother
Whom all humanity holds dear
Passing away to return
When the sun yields mellow warmth
Dappled between soft fronds of green
I return to the dewy violets
Of Aphrodite’s succulent bed
neosalexandria 