Persephone Poems - Poems about Persephone

Persephone, as sorrow and as grief, The world and all its tales are told in brief. The mirth of all the ages comes to this: A sunlit sorrow and a broken bliss. The laws of sorrow rule the lives of men! And we are different words within that line, That may, together, solve its mysteries when Arranged within a harmony divine. And therefore,...

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Yet, I do know a little of the law: For all its forms but fortify from flaw. To that which renders beauty must it serve, Nor from this purpose, may it ever swerve. From solemn silence, symphonies upswell, And half the year I’ll dwell in Asphodel. For I have found that - there are autumns, too, And ice of winter doth the...

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Born on the islands that gleam in the sea, Born in contentment and born to be free, Raised in your midst with your faults as they be, Gone is my daughter, sweet Persephone. And any flower that blooms in any part, Has bloomed before that in my aching heart. And she had taught me - what the summer meant; And in her...

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Struggling With carrying branches to dry for kindling, Cursing the seemingly extra long winter and those who keep bringing it; a shadow drifts over me like a primordial raven, and a rush of unseen limbs streak past me. Both alight before the barbed wire fence I keep meaning to repair in the spring in the summer in the fall. She turns her silhouette, robed in silver fur,...

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Gray, Dismal Rainy days. Then leafless trees, As it gets warmer, All start to sprout new buds. Migratory birds appear. Abandoning the underworld, And the ruler of the dead, Hades, Persephone returns to Demeter. ...

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Persephone Queen of the Underworld Wife of Hades Surrounded by demons Greek Goddess of spring Easily tempted A tiny bit cursed Full of innocence Persephone...

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The wind carries my song From my lips to the corners of the earth, And the flowers in gladness bloom, The trees stand a little taller, And the springs bubble from the roots of the mountains. The wind carries my whispers From my teeth to the skies. But I am oblivious to their sound; My musings fall not upon my own ears. Give...

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In the Underworld they drink pomegranate margaritas I am certain. If you had an endless supply of damned fruit to yourself would you not do the same? I’m sure Hades is sick of slender Persephone in her pink rose perfume and lilac pearls telling him he drinks too much, that he might just drink himself to death if he wasn’t already there....

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I apologise for killing you, Can you ever forgive me? Yes you can, I know you can You know how the things have been. You know how the things have been, Almost 10 years of weeping I know just how tired you were, About time, I put you to sleep. You've grown so much since The first and the second try. Still you're here, at...

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Drinking red wine as a downward shift A shift toward slowing down to see, the softer side of her Things that go bump in the night, with sweet clattering sounds but oft go unnoticed by the rushed mind of brutes Yes – it may look like a moss-covered forest to you, young lady But in reality, you are walking in the quantum...

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I welcome your winds, these triumphant storms. The gleeful cries of the mother who mourned. Winds carry my soul as I cheer with thunderstorms. Quickly I shall ride on the fields once scorned. Creation flits upon Demeter’s song. New life, a chorus filling lands once dead. Songs so divine lure Helios along. Twas Persephone so pure he had glimpsed. Your gales hold...

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What king forsakes the ruling of his heart To bow before a queen of cruel sting Who takes but six sharp bites and then departs When west wind and sun play in brutal spring— Least of all the high king of Arctic gold Who will call all at last to his domain; Why fiercely kiss disloyal marigold As if silk petals could...

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Do you want to know how the pomegranates tasted? Oh mother dear, would you like to know how they felt? Like freedom. Oh mama, don’t you know? He didn’t kidnap me. He didn’t have to. If we’re being honest here, I stole him. With all his darkness and silence, his dark kingdom with no queen- it’s so alluring. No longer am I merely a flower and the...

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April is the month Persephone comes back from Tartarus, crossing the river of death, Styx, with her stillborn child in her breast. The river she crosses with her child though flows while carrying the empty souls, it does not move. The river she crosses for the sake of her child though ferries the dead...

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