Poetic Form: Heptastich
I am
Aphrodite...
yielded from sea lather
and reached the shores of Cyprus on
a scallop's shell, symbol
of womanhood
and birth
I am
Aphrodite...
Homer sourced me as a
girl by Zeus and sea nymph, Dione,
and aphrodisiac
had influenced
my name
I am
Aphrodite...
a cause and effect for
incessant eyes aroused crusade
facing our guarded Mount
Olympus high
above
I am
Aphrodite...
unceasing prayers heard
by mere boldness and a taste test
from each sweeten apple
will direct me
to you
I am
Aphrodite...
petitions in the air
float endlessly, plucked graciously
by ivory doves to
be delivered
to me
I am
Aphrodite...
where I will recognize
you daily upon your first glance
into some looking-glass
beholding my
essence
I am
Aphrodite...
Olympian goddess
of love, beauty, procreation
also, satisfaction,
your every need
answered.
Categories:
dione, appreciation, beautiful, international, music,
Form: Verse
Our Little Boy
Our boy named Dione Henry
Comes from our fathers name
He’s so cheerful and friendly
But sometimes he’s naughty
He loves to play and full of energy
Even his stomach is empty
At the end he is so hungry
He dream of becoming a pilot
Reading his books he always forgot
But playing games he did not
I’ve thought to tied him with a knot
So he could stay in my front
And guide him in his right plot
To show his wisdom that he got
I know that he is our little boy
Who loves to play with his toy
Sooner you’ll become a man
Enjoy your time and have fun
I will always there to guide you
To reach your dreams I'll support you
I’ll be there for you because I love you
Categories:
dione, child,
Form: Rhyme
Who would date a poet?
And have her name grow,
As a garden's eden history,
Have her lips comply with ink that smear'd,
Ears breed on a poultry of recitations,
A fun-fare of words abridge.
**
Maidens wish all to be,
Such from his gourd of honour shall you drink in perissos,
Such from his robe,and by all tongues,
Shall your name convert'd,
A new age of fame,on a beauty brick,
A spade a spade,
The new beauty queen!
**
Then minds might date back to Venus;
Beauty-borne of Dione,
And non to dare you to a contest,as Arachne,
But in Argo,you and me will thrust,
When our ears begin to drown by Arion's love song,
What more an odyssey do lasses crave!
**
And if by the phoenix of Astarte you wish,
Then thy trust is mine a pleasure,
Cook not a phobia of distrust,
Grab my hands as heartily,
For I am Apollo,god of these bleeding lines.
Categories:
dione, confidence,
Form: Epic