(In Rome, a small plaque on a wall shows
how high the river rose in 1872.)
It says a lot, this little marble line.
The river (Rome’s life-giver), prone to flood,
could raise, erase: the rhythm of Proserpine,
of summer, winter, it’s the beat of blood.
What are we, then, we humans? So much krill,
to flourish and then wither? Nothing more?
Accretions crowding every Quirinal Hill,
but rinsed away like Ephesus, Elsinore?
A tremor pulverised the gems of Giotto.
We labour, learn and languish – then we’re dead.
Achievement? Summed up by the Ponte Rotto.
Try grasping, with your educated head
(encapsulated in this modest motto)
that rivers rise and fall. What’s then been said?
*Image of the enthroned Roman goddess Ceres provided by Pixabay.
Ceres, Goddess of Harvest: The Pact
Birthright rules they are Jupiter's sisters,
Hera, Vesta, Ceres, whose names glisters.
Ceres, the goddess of crop gathering,
whom the gods treat the best, no blathering.
When Ceres was sad, the harvest did die,
and the people did ask all the gods why?
Pretty Proserpine, Ceres daughter,
picking berries, her uncle did spotter.
The uncle was Pluto, and none other,
whose desires chokes empty minds to smother.
Pluto was the god of the underworld,
who had kidnapped her to his netherworld.
Proserpine met needs, kept in a dream,
ageless her stay be Pluto's fated scheme.
Jupiter sought out Mercury for aid,
a messenger god and smart son, think trade?
Proserpine marries, in turn, he must,
let her return for six months, would be just.
Pluto, Ceres, and Jupiter agreed,
six months growth, six months none, was then decreed.
2021 April 23
HMS - 10 syllables per line & RZ - exact rhymes checked
There would be the sisters of Jupiter,
Hera, Vesta, Ceres, of three there were.
Ceres was known the goddess of harvest.
The gods made sure they would treat her the best.
If Ceres was sad, the harvest will die.
Then the people will ask all the gods why?
Cute Proserpine, daughter of Ceres.
Seen by her uncle whilst picking berries.
Pluto was the god of the underworld.
Kidnapped her deep below kept her all furled.
Jupiter had sought Mercury for aid.
Smart son, a messenger god, thought a trade.
Proserpine ate whilst kept down below,
Eternal her stay be, scheme for Pluto,
He marries Proserpine, but he must,
Let her return for six months would be just.
Pluto, Ceres and Jupiter agreed,
Six months growth, six months none, was then decreed.
Date:06/11/2019
*Syllable Counter checked
She lands in April, like the eglantine,
and daisies flourish where she deigns to tread.
When apple-blossom blazes overhead,
I know the scented summer will be mine.
As jasmine and clematis intertwine,
and wine’s inclined to vie with sunset’s red,
my heart is full, and much that goes unsaid
must wait until new vintage weighs the vine.
For, when the river wrinkles in the chill
of obdurate October, and the mist
enfolds in skirts the base of Whitney Mill,
my love and I must cease to co-exist.
The crows cry from the stubble, sharp and shrill,
Like morning sun in twilight reminisced.
Sugar Cane Blues
By
Kevin L Fairbrother
Sugar, Sugar it’s everywhere
From Proserpine to Cairns
The green fields of cane
Are in your face all the time
On the road I’m driving
The cane swaying on both sides
Radio blaring a Muslim invasion
Who cares when there is sugar everywhere
I’m feeling high with sugar on my mind
But deep down I feel no shame
I’m riding high there is no pain
That sweet smell I take it in again and again
A change of scenery is what I need
A different choice to smell and see
Maybe then I can forget I have
The sugar cane blues
Sugar, Sugar oh so sweet
Please give me some relief
Let it end this feeling
So full of sweetness
Need to come down off this high
Into the mountains I think I’ll go
Change the scenery breathe some fresh air
To take away my sugar cane blues
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