Persephone your eyes are purple,
In them are reflected all the things of your mothers realm.
Under here you close them steadily,
Hibernating in the dark, germinating
Until like the seed you are I plant you and you burst forth,
Into sunlight and your mothers kisses.
Persephone must have her pomegranates.
After all you must love them ever so, or didn't you know?
Six tiny bites and you're damned to half twilight forever.
Such white teeth and so innocent,
Kore, girl, they give their dead girls pomegranates, all clay or stone,
Their tribute to you, do you want it? I wouldn't.
Persephone your innocence is all but gone, and with it half the fun.
My ghostly queen on your rusty throne, with eyes half closed
You sleep, you are not dead (wake up) just among them.
I see you with your half lidded eyes and the lack light bleaching all the colour from your hair and from your skin,
Eyeing all the pretty mortal men who happen by.
Persephone I love you best when you are gone above
Where I never go, not because I can't -
As well you know, but because I cannot bear to come back down,
(how can you?)
Do you write me off as a dream Persephone?
When you stand there above with all the other living pretty growing things?
With your mothers arms around, and the sister nymphs about you?
(I could have had any one of them but instead I chose you,
You would have been just any one of them if I had not chosen you.)
With the sun retuning to you your pinkish tinge,
With your sisters and your flowers am I just your worst dream?
