Stay, my Apollo
And let me cast your figure
Not in clay
that captures not the precision of your smile
Nor in marble
that hardly approximates your fleet-footed gait
Not either in bronze
that resonates dully, unlike your lyre
But in text
that, like an imprint in a woodland path,
Captures some essense of the dream that did run before.
[Obviously, the concept is not new. I took it from Shakespeare’s Sonnet #23, “As an unperfect actor on the stage.” What am I–not lazy? Original? Never!
Oh: and analysis–Again, too lazy to do iambic pentameter, so I did “hippie free verse,” but in 5 verses with a final concluding line. I use assonance and consonance..a lot. The subject is possibly obvious; objective is to convey a “paternal” sort of love, but in a feminine way. Kind of like how Aeneas shouts after Venus, his mother, but in the opposite ways. And to play with English.
Oops, my bad: Evidently, I can’t keep my Olympian gods straight. I want the image of Apollo, but with the running-person aspect of Hermes.]
To look out below
Pieces are falling, my friends!
Recreate in vain.
N.B. This was written 4/29/2008.