Love Poem: Erato
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Written by: Phil Capitano

Erato

Erato

Out of an ethereal mist her form –
round, soft edges shimmering, a milky

apparition, like the full moon on a foggy
July night. Myrtle and roses came first

in the aroma that took him to the shores 
of Tunisia and a Mediterranean breeze –

his mind wandered until she came full into view
and then his focus was secure…her beauty

filled every available space and he was captivated,
captured by love’s rich palette. He recognized her

not from a daydream nor a fantasy but his Big Dream.
“You…we have known before the slippery

rocks and the gypsy dance…stars over Mont Royal.”
With one look and a flash of lightning she charmed

his sight; he should have known he was doomed
to make the pilgrimage to Samos and the tomb.

She came to fill his head with poetry, rivers
of words to fill his verses and charge them

with emotions. Instead she filled his heart
with a drunkard’s love, a spring wine 

with a delicate bouquet…morning weighs heavy.
“Let me open the gate and chase the noisy

dogs away,  my riches lie within the garden.”
The shaper of words then took her guitar and sang

sweet melodies like kisses and he was the Best Man
far too drunk to resist her passions. He partook

in the creation of music divine amid the cries
of idolatry but he was deaf to the discord. 

With every song they sang he fell deeper
into her graces and his destiny was sealed;

he traded his heart to be skilled in the art
of making love with words, a noble task.

Whenever his vision appeared
he sensed infinity within his grasp.

So, could this awakening be
the pebble whose ripples rock the sea?

The seeker, who had found his treasure,
was now swimming in fatal hope.

I am jealous of White Feather to have kissed
the artful lips of Erato and survived.

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