Hellas’ Prince (Prequel to A Better Garden; Part I)

Neither by descent nor by sinew

Was his pate’s claim to the diadem;

The Powers’ snort was his Waterloo,

A brusque nod’s his lineage’s stem

‘Trod Thessaly’s battleground of life

Where spaces are theaters to war

Dust hardened the prince’s core of strife:

Warrior’s pluck—Orion’s shield star!

An armor of scars he proudly wore

Wounds that sneered through his fiasco’s lours

Grimace in a bit lip that talks score

‘Bred by sword, harassed by jaded hours

A pair of royal boots made of clay

Made a thousand footfalls—ne’er shadowed

‘Dons the ethereal words he’d say,

A half-done cutlass and his throne’s load

His ‘vowed vulnerable buoyancy—

Imbued in oubliettes’ muck and stench

Scrape raised by prayers his knees fancy

A soul to hoist—Lord’s presence must drench

Mêlées ne’er halt nor his entreaties

Endless warfare, pursuant desires

Weedy feuds are gauntlet grabs for peace,

Yearnings are acres of ardent fires

Odysseus cruising Poseidon’s sea

Ain’t the menschen’s verve similitude;

Bequeathed with constancy of the free,

Mayhem forms a fleeting interlude

Existence amidst pillars seem grand

But what’s splendor if bereft of heart?

Aches have decamped; affections doth stand

Yet his pining and hub stay apart…

Though monarchial dreams took a detour

And visors succumbed to goo-goo eyes,

Love’s a shade reared midmost of the moor—

Passion for none’s shriv’ling sacrifice

If fondness burgeons on a garden,

He deemed, then amor’s favored by chance;

If such garden’s a demoiselle then,

Would the Great Waters hand sweet parlance?

 

*Writing “A Better Garden” inspired me to write a prequel and a sequel to the poem. I hope you like them.