Daphne and Apollo - Poetry Please - Cat

Daphne and Apollo

Pricked by Cupid's arrow? Oh, Apollo,

You were obsessed. A monomaniac,

Beyond your own control. Some of us know

How your sickness operates with its lack

Of options - the irrelevance of will,

No choice. An irresistible desire

To possess the prize, combined with the thrill

Of the chase consumed your freedom like fire.

Oh, Daphne! How could that arrow of lead

Inure you so completely from the charms

Of your adoring slave? You chose instead

To flee from wanton bliss within his arms.

Your fear, perhaps, was wise - just as the sun

Will blaze and beat throughout the throbbing day

Delighting the hot flesh it shines upon,

When evening comes it cools then slips away.

And you were not unique in seeking shade

Beneath a canopy of whispering leaves

In some sweetly scented woodland glade

Abjuring, like a nun, the love that cleaves.

For you virginity was holy choice

(Or so you thought in Cupid's vengeful game)

And spurning the divine, imploring voice,

You fled the god who called you by your name.

In flight you were a graceful athlete

With long and perfect legs in swift cadence

And streaming locks, a quickening heartbeat,

Uncinctured breasts belying innocence....

He was a force of nature in pursuit

With eyes like beams that scour the Pantheon,

With one intention, fixed and absolute -

To take the nymph his heart was set upon.

Oh, Daphne, as swift feet kissed grass and moss

You heard him pant, you knew his pounce would come

And sobbed with dread at your impending loss,

Yet still determined you would not succumb...

Then what? At his first touch you were transformed.

Immune. A change had come. Apollo knew

At once the sacred citadel he stormed

Was insuperable. He could not have you.

Remember how her skin became a crust,

Warm firmness hardening at your fingertips

And cooling fast as in your frantic lust

You sought for heat, for flesh, for lips.

Against her bark your cheeks were sorely grazed,

Her neck, her arms became her stretching boughs,

And as you pressed against her bole amazed

You felt the faintness of a pulse that slows,

While dark bay leaves in rustling clusters grew

From where her palms turned pleading to the sun

As in the earth, from her bone and sinew,

A sap-sustaining rooting had begun.

Alone in the forest, hugging the trunk,

Bereft of sport, cheated, unsatisfied,

You clung to her confusedly and sank

Down to your knees not knowing why you cried.

Was it for her, or for yourself you wept?

You roared, but did some inkling of respect

In that feline soul feel pity as you leapt?

Of course you changed her! What did you expect?