Like Hades, I clutch and will not set free
The warmth of sweet summer’s soft honeydew.
I won’t trade Florida for Persephone
Though what’s good for me may not be for you.
When Pandora opened that blasted box
All good but hope soared far overhead
And left us down here with evil that mocks
Our desire, in a sad underworld’s dread.
Some say hope lives far off; lives far above
In heaven; postpones joys ‘til tomorrow,
But it’s today crying children need love.
I open my arms when darkness breeds sorrow.
I clutch sweetest hope and won’t set her free.
Winter can’t harm, with such warmth holding me.