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john Poignand Apr 2014
Aphrodite’s gift

Ah love, how well you thrive within this my mortal breast.
Blossoming forth daily, new spring shoots
From within this soil.
And Oh, with what subjects you choose to seed us.

Oh Face! Oh amorous face!
Eager lips, silken hair, such *******,
and wit.

Yet in the discovery thereof,
I must confess, even my heated desires
Did begin to despair, till wanton fancy allowed
my eager mind, already pierced
by cupids dainty missiles,
that she must , indeed,  have one.

So oft our amorous conversation,
So oft abused by the fairer ***.
Did dwindle, as I ran out of breath, and thoughts
With which to inspire this inspirer of my heart,
That I soon believed some childhood misfortune
Had cleft her powers complete and left her dumb.

I presented her with books, she read then not;
Teased her with romances, games, metaphysics, and finally
Discussed the weather, which she agreed was most dismal.

Such joy, there is, in those whose ready minds can leap
With resolution, ever to matters other than tea,
And whether the weather would permit us to do this or that.

She more like a rose grew at every moment,
And I, like Endimion, pious lover of the Moon,

At last, near beside myself with how to contend with such a wit,
I attempted to loosen her sequestered mind, for I still believed it to exist,
as I had her *******,
with those amorous spirits of Bacchus
that so enliven the hearts of mankind with joy and laughter.

Woe! Oh Woe!  All for naught,
To quote an author of some repute,
Hoping his forgiveness for my theft.
“Wine dulls the spirit of the dull mind.”
My poor child fell quite asleep.
I must admit that it took a severe inspection
To perceive the difference.

“My Dear”, quoth I, voice filled with finality.
“Tis time to discontinue”

She woke, her eyes filled, she vowed she loved,
Then running out of words, left.

No mortal soul should question the working of Aphrodite’s wonders.
Yet, I must respectfully and with all due reverence
To this most lovely goddess, request,
My love’s antithesis,
Who being ugly, will more than suffice with wit.

— The End —