Best Hera Poems


Premium Member It Was Her Poetry Seduced Me

When Thor struck his hammer
upon the flat ground on Earth
it was the pieces withstood the blow we named rock,
constructs we came to know as the mountains.

Even before that time
I crossed my fingers
wished I'd one day experience
...you.

I knew you before heavenly purity  grew wings
before angels blessed hearts 
invoking what we now know as love for our brethren .

I held you in the sphere of my understanding
as the lover I'd never meet but always carry
in the most cherished of my thoughts.

When Zeus handed me his quill and inkwell I knew
I would only use his gift for my inspired notes to you.

Though I was not blessed a poets words 
like Robert Browning 
he who took Elizabeth Barrett into his heart from the first time he read her 
so I did with you.

Only laid blood on parchment
to declare the love you inspired in me.

Like a schoolboy's first kiss
was the day my eyes embraced the body of your work.

Before the first pine broke the ground, the first lark sang,
the first orchards rare enchanted the rainforests. 

Before the first chameleon blended 
into the multicoloured break of dawn.

Before infinite rows of wheat invitingly waved from the fields to greet Hera.

Before liquid rose to separate into
creeks, swamps, rivers, lakes with fish of all kinds
wasn't it me who rode the first seahorse just to make you smile.

Anything, all...
possible 
with the swirl of a letter 
the turn of a word.

I found an immense love tracking the shores of your fine poetry 
always a chill that ran up my back.

No one. 

No one! 

Only you.

Your fine talent,

gifted,

honed

perfected...flaws and all...

moulds

sculpts,

breathes life into ordinary words,

creates poetry 

owns me.


September 26 2016 MY
Categories: hera, beauty,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member The Goddess of Blessed Redemption

The Goddess Of Blessed Redemption

She gave me a foundation of love's pleasures
complete with wondrous bountiful measures
she a gentle goddess of golden hues,
swept this heart away, vanquished all its blues.
From a verdant forest spring she arrived
relieving me of life sadly contrived.
None other could love and give any more,
she a goddess sent from paradise shore.

When asked why she came to me to now bless
no words came, my sins too sad to confess.
Yet her Light and Grace healed this broken soul
for this world had taken its heavy toll.
Of Asclepius* blood, healing her art,
body, soul and mind, first target the heart,
faithful daughter, resplendent her warm glow
sent to heal and allow this soul to grow.

She freed my body from its scars and burns
from ghosts of past buried in hidden urns,
the mind confused by treachery and lies
and the soul ready to face its demise.
Her enchanted charm revived my delight
to view the world in a generous light,
for the mind to stand firm, no longer wilt,
with redemption free the burden of guilt.

Once a broken man, forsaken lost soul,
I now stand stoutly with a heart that’s whole.
With Apollo’s blood vibrant are my veins,
by lease of life, released from morbid chains.
Verve restored by Aceso’s healing might
with radiance to end my sorry plight.
Healed with love in atonement of past crimes
with kindness I share life’s eternal chimes.

Collaboration by Robert J. Lindley and Teppo Gren
7-05-2018

(1.) Asclepius*, see note above..
(2.) Aceso’s , (  Aceso (the goddess of the healing process )
(3.)Apollo- Greek Mythology  - 
Apollo was one of the most versatile of the Greek gods. His domains extended from poetry and music, to light and truth, and archery.
His mother was the Titan Leto, whose tryst with Zeus angered Hera. The Queen of the Gods tormented Leto, sending the monster Python to chase her across the whole world so she could find no safe space to bear her children. However, Leto found safe haven on the isle of Delos and gave birth to Artemis and then Apollo. 

*****
Note- With deep gratitude I present this collaboration written with my good friend Teppo Gren. A wonderful friend and truly amazing poet. A sonnet master that awes me with every poem he posts..
Categories: hera, art, beautiful, imagination, inspiration,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Rain and Stardust

.


                        ****
                   **          **
                 **              **
               **                  **

Furious with Zeus, a vengeful Hera searched the world
Until she discovered the most amazing young girl

~~A Native American with hair dark as the night
Atop a white steed she traversed mountains snowy white~~

“Let there be stardust,” the Goddess proclaimed with force
And the woman was stunned, soaring on a flying horse

“Let there be rain,” Hera chose to give her power
The girl rode above clouds, below her rain did shower

Forever Rain on Stardust would travel through the sky
With the powers of a Goddess as she rode on high

To shower blessings of rain on villages so dry
Rain sees the past and future, though she does not know why

The outcome surely not as Hera had intended
Zeus became enamored of Rain’s presence so splendid

He kissed the sky beneath her with bright rainbow arches
Today you still see them wherever Stardust marches

A Goddess rides now, but sweet Rain was once just human
And she remains bewildered by her own acumen

Olympian rulers outdone by their creation
For Rain and Stardust yet win human acclamation

                    ~~%%%%%% _,_,
                   ~~%%%%%% -"/./
                 ~~%%%%%-'   /  `.
              ~~%%%%%%'  .     ,__;
            ~~%%%%%%'   :       \O\
          ~~%%%%%%'    :          `.
       ~~%%%%%%'       `. _,        '
    ~~%%%%%%'          .'`-._        `.
~~%%%%%%%'           :     `-.     (,;
~~%%%%%%'             :         `._\_.'
~~%%%'                     ;



*By Carolyn Devonshire
Entry for “Rain, the Story”
A contest sponsored by Constance La France ~ A Rambling Poet ~
Categories: hera, fantasyrain, rain,
Form: Couplet

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Song of The Peacock Butterfly No 6: AABB

Assures their breed a place among unknowns,
lest Europe and Asia part of their realms.
Peacock Butterfly, hues-full Inachis,
their uppermost topsides reveal truth bids,
yet undersides are black-like camouflage,
predators amiss, perplexed by mirage,
afears further by fake four eyes on wings,
and hissing sounds. The flower's nectar brings
life spans. They're killed whilst hibernating by
wood mice, and birds like Tit birds when they fly.
Folklore's namesake, Hera's Priestess Io,
eyed by Zeus, held by Hera as a cow.
A year's crawl and sleep, another takes flight,
climbing ivy draws and flowers, delight.
© Hilo Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: hera, allusion, analogy, appreciation, beauty,
Form: Crown of Sonnets

Hera

Hera precious, gorgeous queen of splendor,
of mighty Ares,and Enyo,the mother,
to thee I write my gratitude and thanks
for all thy blessings showered upon my head.
Thine is the pomegranate and the diadem,
with which you rule all worlds and human lands,
with magnanimous mercy and charity.
of rainbow colors dressed divine thou art,
the sunny smiling matron of the arts,
Thou,queen, who favorest the pure of heart.
Categories: hera, art, beautiful, love, mother,
Form: Iambic Pentameter

Premium Member Echo

Her neighbors claim her as their fairy,
And gather around to protect
This little wood nymph of their forest
Who so needs their love and respect.

They don't know how she came to their woodland.
It seems she is one of a kind.
She must gaze at reflection in water
For one like her own self to find. 

Lovely flowers bow in abeyance
All the wood creatures kneel down with awe.
The wind tries to clear the lake waters,
That she might see the picture they saw.

The magnificence of her surroundings
More than easily rivaled by
The beauty of her reflection
As it’s framed by the bright blue sky.

She has no access to glass mirrors,
This little nymph of the wood.
She longs to see her own features
Without ripples if only she could.

Goddess Hera is extremely jealous
Of her beauty, her goodness, her youth.
Though there is no reason for vengeance,
Goddess ire doesn’t listen to truth.

She puts a vile charm on the wood nymph
And steals away her sweet voice.
She can only speak now as an echo.
This dear child has no other choice.

The wood creatures gather around her.
They miss her melodious song.
They give her the new name of Echo,
Declaring what happened was wrong.

One day at the lake was Narcissus.
She was charmed but could not tell him so.
When he asks if she deems him as handsome,
She repeats his own words as an echo.

He’s amazed at her impudent actions,
Intrigued into saying “I love you.”
Love releases her from the wicked one’s spell.
“Beloved  Narcissus, I love you too.”

They spend all their hours now together,
Gazing at the pretty pictures they make,
More gorgeous than lilies reflected
In clear waters of their wedding lake.

By: Joyce Johnson
Categories: hera, evil, i love you,
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member All In a Day At the Louvre

Magnetic attraction, enchanting dream of a lifetime -
	majestic pyramid attracts my eye, 
	mystique draws me in
	
O, your architecture! Pavilions, colonnades; art enclosing art,
	every square inch deliberately designed,
	ceilings pour forth scintillating splendor
	
Antiquities from Rome, Egypt, the Orient:
	trying to wrap my head around art
	created in Mesopotamia 6,000 years ago
	
Dazed and captivated in your Greek sculpture hall:
	Bronze beauty, marble magnificence,
	Venus de Milo seduces still
	
What history you have archived on your walls and pedestals!	
	Charlemagne holding his scepter,
	Louis XIV in regal resplendence
	
Oil on canvas communicates genuine genius
	Rembrandt, Rubens, Raphael,
	Vermeer, Van Dyck, Vigée-Lebrun
	
Mythology awakened to life in marble:	
	Hera, Hermaphrodite, Neptune, Nymph,
	Psyche and Cupid
	
Even commoners respectfully regarded:
	Messina's military man, Brueghel's beggars, 
	Michelangelo's dying slave
	
Centuries of religious faith expressed with grace and grandeur:
	Moses in the bulrushes, Islamic ivory,
	the penitent Magdalene, Virgin and child
	
Artistic vision reflects and redirects history:
	Renaissance masters forecasting the future,
	Monet's Impressionism a daring new style

Fifteen minutes till closing, where have the hours flown?
	What of tapestries, textiles, drawings, decorative arts?
	Alas, another day.
	
Highlight of the day, world's most famous painting:
	mysterious Mona Lisa smile
	thanks me for coming to visit
	
Louvre: 
	timeless testimony to artistic aesthetic
	cathedral of contemplation
	history of humanity

Written 15 Sep 2020
© John Watt  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: hera, art, paris, travel,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Under the Sun

This poem belongs to all the children who will never know the joy
of running on a beach and getting sand between their toes. Told
from the perspective of a 12-year-old boy, wheelchair-bound.

I know a place where the stars kiss the sea;
and fish sing all night in cool harmony.
Where golden crystals, sparkling in the sand
are polished each night by a wizard's hand.

Added to that are bright amethyst gems
from the cache of sunset wandering in. 
A magical place where one can pretend
those broken, like me, are able to mend.

I found I could run at last--on fire!
So fast a comet might even admire.
I tumbled and cartwheeled all over sand;
then shook a magician's vanishing hand.

I whirled with delight, so eager to go
to all those places intriguing me so
defying gravity, I jumped so high,
I touched the edge of the deep purple sky.

Catching a ride from a planet to star
I could glimpse them all, both near and far.
No stopping me now, I joyfully thought.
A passing moonbeam next I caught,

that took me farther, a more distant place,
where stars shake hands and then embrace
I spoke with Zeus as his wife, Hera, smiled;
even spoke with Ares, their wayward child.

They said I must heed Earth's beckoning call;
because i'm not one of them, after all.
Suddenly captured by a downward draft,
starting to tumble, I could hear Zeus laugh.

As I tumbled down, the breeze gently placed
me in my wheelchair--my usual space.
But now that I know special secrets of
a magical land so far above.

I'll travel where my arms can at last lift
a flower I find on a sandy drift. 
Where I can jump and dance and run--
and all things are possible under the sun.
© Ann Peck  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: hera, 6th grade, adventure,
Form: Couplet

Matinee On the Bounty

BEYOND THE MILK OF HERA PAST THE HEAVEN'S VERTEBRAE
THE STARS BLINK GLEAMING SAGAS, IN THE DAWN THEY FADE AWAY
MY SHIP MAKES AN INCISION IN EVERY THING THEY SAY

THE SEA WEARS LIKE A SILKY DRESS THE BEAUTY OF THE NIGHT
AND NEVER DOES THE MOON APPEAR SO BEAUTIFUL IN WHITE
MY SAILS, IMPATIENT WITH THE WIND, REFLECT CELESTIAL LIGHT

OLD TRITON'S SHELL IS SOUNDLESS IN POSEIDON'S CALMING DEEP
IF PROTEUS WOULD CHANGE HIS SHAPE, WHAT FORM WOULD HE NOW KEEP
THE COMPASS NEEDLES'S IGNORANT OF FAIR AURORA'S SLEEP

LIKE ORPHEUS I SEEK TO CATCH A GLIMPSE OF MY LOVE THERE
AS IF EURYDICE COULD BE ALIVE IN VIEWLESS AIR
MY MAP OF MAL DU SIECLE IS A CHART OF MAL DE MER

BENEATH THE WINGS OF HALCYON I WAIT  CALYPSO'S WHIM
A GENTLE ZYPHYR CAN'T INSURE MY EQUALIBRIUM
MY NAVIGATION LIGHTS GLOW BRIGHT AND THEN THEY SEEM TO DIM

DO HEAVEN'S ANGELS SALT THE SEAS WITH TEARS OF JOY OR PAIN
ARE ALL MY PATHS AIMED AT DEATH OR DO THEY LEAD ME HOME AGAIN
THE AUTOPILOT SQUEAKS AND THERE'S A LUFFING IN THE MAIN.
Categories: hera, boat, mythology, sea, stars,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Night Sky

Stars, like glowworms, surround the gibbous moon
Like cold mood of a play, blinks blue lit sky
Dark clouds, like ghostly shadow shows, puff up

Moon moves toward dusky clouds that puff up
A night heron flies across the full moon
Like Hera in black-blue gown, shines the sky

Angels enter, exit in scenic sky
Smokes, as though from Elysium, puff up
Skirting the boots of the silvery moon

Soul is bliss-filled by the charms that puff up
Heart is enchanted by the blue-whale sky
Mind muses on marvelous marble moon


23 March 2022
The Night Sky Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anna Marie Kaianah
Categories: hera, nature, night, sky,
Form: Tritina

her eyes are gray, foreboding

her eyes are gray, foreboding
reflecting the wrath of Zeus
yet therein lies the charm of Hera
who silences Olympian thunderbolts
she is sharing a tenebrous introspect
the smile withdrawn, judgmental thought
an ego that must be fed, expense of others
aloofness brings happiness no more
i am lost in the beauty of an honest waltz
women addressing their problems
instead of undressing in front of them
we all suffer in being human
but with an honest waltz such as yours
we begin the inward path
realize the injustice we do others
its ultimate expense, our self
we are wisely told never to judge
yet every day we do
and to some extents we must
who shall i call friend
do i devitrify, or dignify humanity
sometimes i wonder why get honest
people love to be honest about faults
most of the time it is yours
truth can be an elusive beast
sheltered within, Medusa's avoiding mirrors
refusing to acknowledge the peccants within
the ones we tend to ignore
dismiss as peccadilloes
i was not fond of reflection myself
those mornings after, mirror of dipsomania
the abusive beast, a life of full moons
it was worth every battle back
sitting here sober, listening to you

Phoenix 94
Categories: hera, addiction, analogy, blessing, courage,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Karen O'Leary—my Poetry Soup Pal!

She should have been Hera, goddess queen of heaven, the sister-wife of 
Zeus, king of the gods; she would have caught him one Friday night tipping 
Out while she sleeps to visit one of his plumy wives and over 100 relations. 
She would have said, “Sit down Zeus; let me inform you about the laws of 
Property settlement and child support in heaven with a concrete poem.”

She would have straightened up Aphrodite, goddess of love and lust.
Especially when Aphrodite was caught red-handed making love to
Her son, Ares, the God of war, she probably would have said, “Now look 
Here woman, quit messing with my son and creating all this rumblings in
Heaven with the gods.” I could see some Lanturne poems floating

She would have acted as the sister of Demeter, goddess of fertility,
Agriculture, and harvest, a sister of Zeus. Because she would have 
Blessed women with children who need them, and also farmers
With great harvest and crops to feed their families and sustain the 
People across the land, by waving a haiku poem in her healing hands

She would have screamed as the sister of Hermes, the crooked cattle-rustling
God; son of Zeus and Maia, who stole his brother, Apollo’s cows, then
Lied, and swore before Zeus, their father, “That even if I knew who stole 
Apollo’s cattle, I would not even accept a reward for finding the thief.” 
She would have gave her crooked brother, and son of Zeus, a flying senryu

She would have been with Athena, the virgin goddess of wisdom, reason, and 
Heroic endeavors; the daughter of Zeus, and Titan goddess of wise counsel 
Métis, especially when Athena appeared onto Swift-footed demigod,
Achilles, and told him, “Sheathe your sword and defeat Agamemnon, the 
Greek king with words of wisdom.”  I could see some wise epigram poems 

She was probably counseled by Apollo, her brother, god of music, healing, and 
Poetry; the son of Zeus and the Titan goddess Leto. Because she has cared 
For the sick in hospital emergency rooms, and has also stimulated us for years 
With her poetic muse. She has counseled many along the way and has calmed
Many storms with loving charm. “Hail my sister in Christ—Karen O’Leary!”

Happy birthday angel and wishing you many more for years to come!
Categories: hera, friendship, imagination, inspirational, life,
Form: Classicism

Zeus

Zeus the god of the sky.
Even a rifle wont make him die.
Hera is his wife.
The god of marriage supporting life.
Categories: hera, religion, god, god,
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Melissa Lont 1825 - 1911

Melissa Lont

1825 - 1911

How does one as low and humble as I
Sum up my life of 86 years
In a mere poem as brief and short-lived
As life itself?
And what is the secret to my long life?
What do I know that you, my friend,
Would like to know
About success and survival?
About good health and good luck?
My answer is this:
Do not complain and do not explain! Never!
And as for being married all those years to Doctor Lont?
Well, truth be known, like Hera,
I knew of my husband’s infidelities.
But I also knew to look the other way
And pretend to not see or know!
I admired Ida Kincaid for her sacrifices to maternity.
But I loathed Ida Kincaid for her matrimonial mendacity.
At her funeral in June of 1903
I aloofly stood across the way
There on dusty Broadway Street
Under the bulbous blue jacarandas
Screaming hallelujahs!
As Mr. White lowered her cream-colored coffin into the Netherworld!
And when Doctor Lont, my husband of 41 years, died of the consumption,
I did not cry nary a tear!
Why should I have?
Now I too am resting within this hard ground next to him.
Next to the man, my man in perpetual suspenders from Springfield,
My man who never ceased being a boy.
Categories: hera, death,
Form: Epitaph

An Epic Woman

An Epic Woman  

Woman tell me your thoughts
Shall I be the fool and you the teacher?
Am I your Adonis, or do you see a toad.
Chivalry demands that I am your knight without reward,
For my kin is that of Beowulf and Lancelot,
Dragon slayers, so command me.

I am woman I need no gesture, for wisdom lies in,
Raindrops hung out to dry on silken cobwebs.
And in the beggar who is happy, while his king sleeps in fear
For my kin, blessed me with a rare beauty,
For my reflection rivals that of the queen Of Sheba
My thoughts entwined with the warrior queen Boudicea, 
My tenderness lies in queen Amyitis and her Hanging gardens of Babylon
My passion is that of Cleopatra for Mark Anthony,
And my faith equals that of Mary

So beware young Jason, speak from the heart, 
Or you will summon queen Kriemhides in me,
For she killed Attila the Hun for less,
This Woman will send you to phineas
A slave for the harpies, if you lie,

My lady, I have slain the sirens with Lyre music,
For my love for you was greater,
Alexander wept when there were no more worlds to conquer
Achilles killed Hector for Helen,
And King Leonidas defeated the Persian Empire
One glance from you and their deeds fade into oblivion,
Medea the Sorcerer, My mother,
Gave birth to me, for this moment.
Woman take my hand and show me your love


Jason of Argo, look into my eyes
For I see the soul of a man
Your shield is heavy to stop you running away.
Your Hero Achilles was slain by a true suitor Paris,
His love for Helen, was true.
You deceive all women.
Your Friend the Goddess Hera
Was killed by you,
It is my enslavement you seek, not love.

I send you to the Eighth Circle for Eternity to be whipped by Devils. For the Harpies deserve better.
And Remember, these words
The Wisdom of King Arthur,
When a Woman you seek, be honest at all times,
 No matter what the cost. 
And defend her faith, her home,
And her country with your life.
For these are the Thoughts of all Women.
Categories: hera, fantasy, love, me, woman,
Form: Classicism
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