|Posted on June 6, 2014 at 8:55 PM|
Our resident tutor Angela Locke received a Highly Commended for her poem Sanctuary of Aphrodite
Sanctuary of Aphrodite
Almost closing time, the fag-end of a winter's day.
‘The Goddess has left, but her Sanctuary’s still here!’
The young curator smiles. There’s an imprint on his chin,
discus-shaped, as though at birth a god
had placed a thumb to mark him.
Copper pots, stone heads, a great clay urn,
stone baths for ritual washing.
Naked virgins parade unbidden in my head.
We got lost getting here, had a row.
I told him I was leaving. Now, sulking
in the village square, he reads his maps.
The curator’s black 4x4 goes past.
He waves. ‘Don't worry. I won't lock you in!’
I'm alone. Fallen olives lie on stony ground;
Sparrows rustle among dead leaves.
How lonely to be abandoned by your worshippers;
A beautiful goddess one minute, then cast aside
for the next best thing.
Among these fallen columns,
olive trees in a ruined sanctuary,
there are shadows, sky bruised after a storm,
always the sea, undimmed.
Perhaps the Goddess still waits in the grove
for Love, libations from the two-headed cup,
sacrifices; great kings landing in their black ships,
bees to nectar, along the golden sea-path.
From me, sprigs of rosemary, picked this morning
in the amphitheatre of Kourion, laid on this flat stone,
are small gifts for what may be an altar, still.
We are also in the process of preparing another booklet based on members entries for the Mirehouse Competition. This will be published later this year.
Categories: Writers News