Eos laughs, lifted by her progeny,
Dusk receives; his hands don't reach
The wind blows; laugh for this
Dear Eos,
I
wish I still felt passion in my heart toward
the generous soul that you are.
You always saw beauty in the world
and painted strokes of life
with a brush of sweetness and delight.
I
am sorry for the suffering life's put you through.
The heart is a fickle thing. It simply was not meant to be.
We've walked together but now our paths divert,
we take with us the lessons that we learned.
----Tithonus.
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
The Southern Cross’ trajectory across
the night sky marks the hours that come to pass.
Her prone figure no longer an hourglass;
by the silvery light of Phoebe’s* gloss.
I cling to the edge of the bed, toss
and turn—my reminiscing turns to farce.
Hebe† has long since fled and passion is sparse.
As inscriptions on wedding rings embossed:
‘May our love last forever and a day.’
Eos, turn me into a cicada black!‡
Unlike lovesick Orpheus,** I’m not fey
and I would definitely not turn back
for another round of intimate play.
As lover, she had given me the sack!
I endure constant flak
from my mates down at the pub over pint
that I’m in a terrific moral bind;
inspiration is slack.
If only we could turn back aging clock:
Oh, Selene,†† you might espy lovers who flock
to her bed and lose track.
There was a time when I was very small
Happy on a Summer’s Day ‘ere I grew tall..
Gone are the bylanes rising at dawn
Blessed by Eos,
The Letter boxes and Candy Sellers
To keep one’s eyes on!
Gone are the trees – my home:
Come Sol, Come Zeus,
Oh! Days Gone By –
Blind Man’s Bluff and Peekaboo, I grew up on!
Gone are those days with loud sounds and cheers,
Gone are those friends, neighbours and Elders!
Oh!Bygone Childhood Memories…
Close to my heart, you are cherished forever!
The hillside cycle rides that caress bright faces
The races that bring a spark in everyone’s gazes,
The once a week ride to
The farmers market with Dad,
The bargains for that little extra
In our basket with a wad!
Those weekend pranks with neighbourhood friends,
Cricket and badminton matches, the good old trends….
Oh!Bygone Childhood Memories…
Close to my heart, your profound stories!
Shut are the gates of the days gone by,
I walk on the present, quiet paths…
Oh!Bygone Childhood Memories
Close to my heart, you are cherished forever!
Helios rises
As Eos pulls back the curtains
Of dawn.
He rides his golden chariot
Until dusk settles,
And then peacefully sleeps
In the night chalice,
While Selene
Begins a majestic journey,
Driving her moon chariot
Across the heavens
To meet Eos at dawn
Who once again
Pulls back the curtains
For Helios, god of the sun.
Note: Selene, goddess of the moon, is sister to Helios.
Eos, goddess of the dawn, is also a sister to Helios.
For: The Chalice of Night Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cook
January 23, 2022>/em>
Ever these gifts from Eos of dawn,
Her mornings gently purling with ray’s early luster
To herald new sunrise, a jasper flare--
Robed in ornate chiffon waltzing quietly
On marbled hills, on awakened floral glide:
How fragrance explodes into creamy nectar
Luscious as her avian flock and bahiagrass,
With dainty hands strewing mist upon trees
Through chants of daybreak's invocation,
Granting all with tokens from maiden prayers…
And we offer beads of gratitude and homage
For newborn dreams yet to be fulfilled,
Till she renders vestal light to the wild of noon.
For Anthony Biaanco's Gifts Contest :
6/18/2020
many the marvels
in the earth’s burgeoning garden
spring is release
the Lord’s yearly pardon
fallen, the brown, dead and decaying
covering mats nature’s mother laying
rivers refreshed with spring’s overflow
funnel life to all that grow
the flowers in colors reds, whites and blues
pastels speak a how do you do
in vibrant hues too numerous to mention
Monet bestowed at this glory convention
beasts, creatures, small creepy crawlers
flyers, swimmers and those that are brawlers
find refuge rebirth among the leafy green flora
flourish in the aura of Eos and Aurora
a slender jade snake of glistening green
basks in the sunshine silent not seen
bugs, a frog and a salamander too
seek shelter and haven under a privy of blue
squirrels searching probe dead fallen leaves
butterflies gracefully flit in the breeze
bluebirds, thrushes and a brown pudgy dove
scout housing in youthful branches above
how blessed to flee
a city’s capture
finding the woodlands
and natural rapture
canon xf 400 4k uhd-----eos 80d dslr
aja clon14 and hd 35mm
w. Hekel Linton
Ibanez Rickenbacker
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Siren Song
“My aching bones protruding desire;
My mind overtaken by time immemorial.
A wasteland of dissociation, barren yet flourishing
With fruitful anamnesis of a necromantic epoch;
Oh Poseidon- how I long for home.
To endure the Fateful death song that spills from these lips,
Our sweet entanglement transforms to unity;
Sweet Liberation! My deliverance is in your aqueous grasp!
Dulcis Mortem- liberare eos de vincula vitae.”
~ NC
On the seventh ray
Of the fourteenth sun
Death hath come twofold
Arose a Titan in this age
Amidst this nimbus looms darkness
Betwixt the ash and sage
Approach cyclical ritual
Dousing wings in feral flames
Latent gravidity does surmise
For upon my resurrection
Eos I shall rise
How she rests on grasses from a jungle
Tulips and pines of forest 'round her shed;
A hand exploring time's precious compass
With graced arms afloat, never way ahead.
Her bay cradles shelled rock that lazes by
This pure moment holding an endless sea…
Above, the jiggled sound of breakers glide
When thrushes arrange music endlessly.
Oh, to pause along slant of herb and moss
Where marquee of colors glints like a flame...
The purple sash of hay twirling softly
With crests unhurried on waters, quite tame.
A power of here, now, lays on calm navel;
Gently assured, relishing dew and heat
Unique is her time, never repeated…
Eos , dawn goddess, holds that rare flash, sweet!
Cliché Contest, Silent One
3/31/2016
" There Is No Time Like The Present"
Tonight we’ll share the heavens;
Souls knitted into one,
Fly together we, the ochre moontrails,
on gossamer wings.
The decanter overflows with nectar;
its sweetness permeates the ethereal void,
like ephemerous orbs when touched
by the hands of a child.
The secret Garden’s lit by Eos’ mirth;
polychromatic hues emanate from glassine showers;
Gait filling the place, radiating in splendor,
Warming every psyche in its solace.
Silence may, yet rule the void;
Plenary peace acquiesced e’en for a nanosecond.
Then from some aperture, a tiny tingle crescendos,
as the angelic host thunder their majestic heralds.
Come with me now my beloved;
Dry I your tears with lotus petals,
Come with me now, reach out your hand
and together we’ll share a millennium in a succinct moment
in this paradise called DREAMS.
lvl
Eos, the philosopher from DeBrios
Caught a grouchy tomcat nutty Felios
He squeezed the stupid cat
In logical unrest
Got not an ounce of wisdom - he only mews
ooooo
From stark equinox, a cold wind blows
Maiden Winter closes the final rose,
Now she stands at the frosted gate
Decked in pristine robe so ornate
Dusted leaves drift from balding trees;
Crowning tiny pearls of arctic breeze.
Her wand sparks pale Eos’ quiet thrill
Quilts of eyelids wake on threadbare hill,
Soon kingdom’s carpet will turn to steel
And dashes of fairies pour a misty reel.
All snow -bound hours and icy nights
Blinkies*, a million twinkling lights
Scatter their magical flakes once again,
For powdered toes to whisk on capped lane.
And so the frigid bouquets will cling
Till crystals explode across Beira’s* wing.
©
*Eos- Greek Titan goddess of dawn
*Blinkies—Jamaican term for fireflies
*Beira—Celtic goddess of Winter
Fairy Tails Contest by nette onclaud
The weightless float of morn throttles
like a softly-bathed woman: white, tangy and bubbling
with a sprig of mint and dew;
petals’ chests opening a gate of chastity, undressed.
A path of upturned twigs rips free and slides along veils
of bridal mist; misty in a way leaves become pastel
strands ; where footprints of grasses become delicate
as it is daring , calling forth my name,Eos...Eos.
Brocades of lace robe my wind—a breaking moment
for these flushed arms to sprinkle the pour of studded foliage
cradling morning's wake...soon,new lovers play
the choral flute bearing freshly-wed fruits: the smell
of earthy breeze drifts upon my mantle of humid, winged caves.
Gently daylight wakes, as I, Goddess of light and dawn
open the first rose shimmering ' neath my tapestry
weightlessly white, no one dares to speak.
Who Are You Contest
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