| Pomegranate Words |
Inveigle by Rachel ArceJaeger, 16, Mountain Ranch, California Think of the apple That smooth, golden apple Whose shimmering skin Caught the eye of sweet Atalanta Plucked from the Silvery bows of the garden Whose seeds of desire Bloom in the hands of amorous Aphrodite An innocent sphere Luscious and seductive Sent down to earth to beguile Our dear Atalanta Tearing her feet From the hot, dusty track Her heart fills with lust for the orb; its voice moans her name "Atalanta" Who is to say if her eyes, bedazzled By that smooth, golden apple Did not see Her fate in the form of Hippomenes? |