To young love and a broken rules - In the words of Persephone

I realize I am one of the lucky few

A love such as ours does not often stay true;

If my mother only knew where I was she would grieve

As if Hades stole my heart like a lowly thief;

If my mother only knew that I wandered with purpose,

Desparate for him to notice me and whisk me away to freedom and excitement

She would think me incompetent!

 

He is excitement

He is danger

He is a passionate flame

And yet,

He is caring

He is supportive

He wants me to be his queen;

Do I dare?

 

I swallow my vows

And partake of our lovely pomegranate wedding cake

(Half-priced at Hera’s wedding chapel because no one else wanted it)

Now my mother is livid

Enough to turn my regal blood frigid

I love my mother

I sincerely do

But I can’t live forever as a babe born new

 

Six months here,

To satisfy the terms of my mother’s strict grounding;

Six months there,

To wean her off as I take flight

 

After all,

I am the poor wife of a poor artist;

Oh well!

Young love is such an intoxicating spell

As long as we have each other,

Who cares about the dumpster outside our single window?

I hardly notice the smell through my bouquet of bridal flowers!

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