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Supplication to Erato and Melpomene
Erato, decked in crimson roses; green branches of myrtle,
Help me forge the words to win her heart:
My crippled pen can summon not the words that might make fertile
Barren hours passing till we part.
Her eyes are of the ancient jade; like cold December’s tide
They throw me from the waves onto the shore.
And though I’ve sought to capture her and failed as I’ve tried,
Your, inspiration, muse, do I implore.
Erato, decked in golden roses, with your arrows burning:
Send a bolt and set her heart aflame.
I listen for the whispered words that leave aloof hearts yearning:
Carve into her aching heart my name.
Her eyes are marbled peridot; like cold December’s wind
They take me from Apollo’s sacred tree.
And all I ask of you, O muse, is bid her take me in
And cast affection’s eyes on only me.
Erato, decked in purple roses, play upon the lyre
Eros’ cozened song to make her mine.
And let your father’s thunder roar commanding that desire
Fill her heart with sweet Harmonia’s wine
Her eyes were made by Artemis; like cold December’s night
They overthrow my senses, though I seem
Resistant to temptation, in her presence, I ignite:
O rose-crowned muse, please set me in her dreams.
Melpomene the cypress-crowned, you knew how this would end:
You write the final act and wear the mask.
And when the saddest lines are said, the curtain must descend
And you must carry out your tragic task.
So draw your dagger through my heart and as I pay the cost
Let none who see that scene be dry of tears:
Speak softly, muse, and whispering, tell of this lover lost,
Who treading in love’s swordstorms disappeared.
Melpomene, wine-hearted muse, I’ve stepped into the fray
And every man who loves knows what awaits.
The voyage of a lifetime is but shattered in a day
By turning hearts of faithless, fickle fate.
So, speak your fine-spun words of gold and voice what all must hear;
Let those who might be tempted then think twice.
And tell of he, who seeking love, did find when it appeared
That love demands of all great sacrifice.
Melpomene, who wears the grapes, I beg you stay the blade
And hear the supplication of my heart:
I have journeyed long and far and have often gone astray
Spare me now! From her I’ll never part.
Look upon these words I write, o Tragedy, discover,
So I might find a way to slip the knife.
Find in me, Melpomene, a strong and worthy lover:
O tragic muse, spare hearts, spare love, spare life.
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Lines on the Autumnal Eclipse
In the depth of winter skies
__Where ancient bodies hover
Moon to Sun will seem to die
__When Earth divides the lovers
And in the hour of its grief,
__The sun will cease its burning,
And starve the bough, the branch, the leaf
__And leave the cold dawn yearning.
In the depth of dying light
__The moon will cry in sorrow
Thinking that the longest night
__Finds no relief tomorrow.
Sun will freeze the stars to dust
__Above to chain the hours.
Moon will seem to turn to rust
__Below will die the flowers.
And beneath their broken hearts
__We question and we wonder
Where love ends and where love starts
__And what tears it asunder.
If there meet two hearts, two lips
__Will Earth be their undoing?
Will they only be eclipsed:
__A shadow’s pause in wooing?
As Earth’s shadow fades from night
__Rekindling their desire
Sun takes Moon into its light
__And Moon sets Sun on fire.
In the dark of winter skies
__That oft leave passion covered
Love has often seemed to die
__But none divide the lovers.
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K.S. Anthony is an NYC-based writer and occasional marketing executive. His website is http://www.ksanthony.net
“Supplication to Erato and Melpomene” is beautiful, K.S. Thank you!
Thank you for your kind words, Paul.
Exquisite words and phrases that are evocative of the subjects in both poems. “Swordstorms” captured my fancy in “Supplication…” as a wonderful composite word. I particularly like the happy ending of “Lines of the Autumnal Eclipse:” Love has often seemed to die but none divide the lovers.” “Eclipse is an interesting word, since I always think of an “autumnal equinox.”
The rich imagery of the “Supplication” is especially attractive because new words in each stanza are carefully chosen to embellish the double triadic structure of the poem. It is beautifully done–a credit to the lover, his beloved, and both Muses.
Still, one little grammar error in stanza 5 catches my attention. We should read “tell of him, who seeking love, did find.” This is a very common mistake, because writers think the two pronouns (“him” and “who”) should agree. However, they must agree only in gender and number. The case of each pronoun is determined by its use in the sentence. “Him” is in the objective case because it is the object of the preposition “of.” “Who” is in the nominative case because it is the subject of the verb “did find.” Both possibilities for agreement in case (“he who” and “him whom”) are wrong. “Seeking” is not a verb in need of a subject, but a participial adjective that refers back to both “him” and “who.”
I am sorry to devote the bulk of my comment on these fine poems to grammar, but correct grammar is essential to good poetry. Poets may deliberately misuse grammar to make a point, but I don’t think that was the intent here. “Autumnal Eclipse” also has a tiny grammar mistake robbing the final line of its full effect. It should say “none divides” because all the “one” words (“one,” “none,” “everyone,” “someone”) are singular. “None divides” means “no one [or no thing] divides.” Omit the “s” in a singular ending only when the verb is in subjunctive mood (“let none divide the lovers”). But I believe the final statement here is intended as a simple declaration.
Turning an eclipse into an event with the heavenly bodies personified is a brilliant concept, well worked out in the poem. You take care to make the personifications clear by treating “Earth,” “Sun,” and “Moon” as personal names except when you add “the” to indicate otherwise. Fabulous work that gives the feeling of ancient eclipse viewers who (not knowing what was happening) might have feared the death of a celestial light.
1) Touché, merci.
2) Typo (mine) alas.
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