By: Tamarix Banfili
of Juniper Grove
Persephone stirs from
Hades-induced sleep and stretches out her
Mother-of Pearl arms long seashell fingers
touch the blue moons of March The ides glide silently past Impotent against the sun-smile awakening of the sleeping queen of hell.
Hades scowls and with his dark sceptre rages angry ice and howling wind above and dark cold below
But his time is past and Demeter triumphs
as her daughter languidly returns to her embrace. There is no man or God who can penetrate the love of the Mother for her own.
Soon Persephone will kiss the Earth, not her husband, and we shall all ache with the tenderness of her flowered lips.