Poetics, Classics, and Christmas 🎄

Pairs of iambs and trochees

like bunches of red rose bouquets

sway in the feebly twinkling light

a poet’s recollection and delight.

Stanzas and quatrains to pen

in the poet’s solitary den.

Ballads, elegies, and sonnets,

also some sestinas and couplets.

The falling leaves of autumn,

the bygone days of Roman column,

the fading hue of cherry blossom,

the rose hiding under the earth’s bosom.

The freezing cold of white winter,

no heard free children’s banter.

The robin stops to sing,

voices silent till next spring.

On days like this I like to read

Trojan Virgil and his Aeneid

Carthage before Rome, love’s tragedy

Queen Dido’s passionate loyalty.

Homer’s Odyssey, Queen Penelope,

Odysseus’ wife, star of fidelity.

Classics, anyone? Poetry is old –

of bards of long ago were told.

Greek fraud, the Trojan horse,

mighty warriors, fierce and coarse.

The fall of Troy, a city invincible,

breach on its wall seemed impossible.

But cunning had its way

like Satan’s lure to lay.

Milton’s Paradise Lost

the Son of Man’s life’s cost.

The Fall, Adam and Eve’s loss,

nailed Jesus on the cross.

Hatred, jealousy, and pride

from time’s dawn Satan’s stride.

Wars among nations, Russia and Ukraine –

human relations – boon or bane?

Like the ancient bard, I sing

but of heaven’s mercy to us bring

hope, peace to men, and joy

through a humble Baby Boy.