There was a day
when her eyes
could halt armies
stem armadas
stop time
Her classic beauty
could turn naked truth
Into cloth of beguile
then cause each meaningless
compared to her perfect form
She compelled men
to falter and swoon
at her feet
for a mere whisper
of her wish
Her songs beckoned life
to join in circles
and swirl up and away
above the tree canopies
dissipating into the heavens
There are seasons
that bring forth her true nature
from generosity of a new spring
to ferocity of winter’s death ...
and always day and time - her choice.
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