ORPHEUS and EURYDICE
Hear my rendering of an oft-told tale
(mixed with a leavening of Bullfinch)
Composed in view of Orpheus’
Lyre up in the Cosmos.
Orpheus, son of Apollo and Calliope
(I forget Eurydice’s heritage)
Was to be blessed by Hymen.
Sadly, he brought no happy omens.
His torch smoked, drew tears.
Gods and Goddesses coughed and sputtered.
Orpheus, master of the lyre,
Whose notes melted tiger’s hearts
Made trees uproot and creep near,
Rocks to soften,
Loved his Eurydice.
Fate conspired with happiness.
Eurydice, chased by Aristaeus
She died a broken, bloody death
On the end of Aristaeus’…. sword.
How fast Orpheus descended those Stygian depths!
His tones pleading for the return of Eurydice.
Sisyphus sat on his rock to listen,
Ixion’s wheel stood still
The Furies eyes now wet with tears.
Garbed in her winding shroud,
fresh with young death.
Here’s the deal. Walk out of Hell
And don’t look back.
Orpheus! You almost made it!
Eurydice, twice dead, disappears.
In both love and death-
It only takes one glance.