Eos and Apollo

The first line of this poem is taken from Homer's Odyssey. It shows up in countless places throughout, but the particular one I stole came from line 170 of book 9. All the rest is my own, however, so, unfortunately, Homer can carry no blame, aside from being an initial inspiration.

Eos and Apollo

Young dawn, with fingertips of rose,

now makes a soft approach from Helios' house

to lay the dim stars in repose

and usher out her ancient phoeban spouse.

He waits, his chariot prepared,

all girt about in godly fire and light,

and holds his steeds, so fresh and flared,

from leaping forward in untimely flight.

She calls him forth, her waking chant

of spousal love sounds on the morning air

with warbling birds that raise a cant

of glory for the god, their humble prayer.

The two embrace in endless dance

that she begins and he concludes in turn,

her blush in bloom at his advance,

her chambers ready for his fit return.

Just so he bursts upon the earth,

as she recedes again into her hold,

and yet, in each they find their worth:

her beauty is his merry mirth;

his majesty, her happiness untold.