The Archaic Smile of Persephone (Poem)

I saw the golden apple swing
Above his trembling fingertips
A sweet temptation for his lips;
It's glint an archaic, silent grin
A painful reminder of his sin:
The one tipping on the silver string
Of Cupid's wooden bow-- the secret only his single arrow
has had the pleasure to know...
Not even when Demeter came
Did it pluck out a single word
Because no one else is meant to know
Who loves Kore of Antenor.
Not even Helios who loves her well
And sees on Earth everything and all
Could ever guess who loves her so
Is the God of the Underworld.

And no one else except the girl
Had ever guessed it could be him,
The one who deems to be so cold
Had dreamed of having her to hold
And no one else had ever guessed
That he would be so bold and shrewd
To take young Kore and become
The owner of her very doom.
For when she turned Mint into a flower
It was obvious in that very hour
That a change had taken place
As she now had an older face...
No longer was she silent Kore
The young maiden of the forest
But instead we had Persephone
The one with Pomegranate lips.
 
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