Greek Battle
Swords clash high above
The screaming echo
Of tortured love
Pain from long ago
That had still yet to set
In the grove far far below
Conjured from an amulet
The powers were anything but mellow
With faces painted as brick
The two did meet
The plan was all geometric
Up on high was their seat
From which the gods watched
The bloody free for all
The Greeks knew they had won
Their enemy had barely made a scratch
As light filtered down from the sun
Healers produced herbs from their satchels
The war was won
And they were victorious
So home they run
Their triumph was glorious
So carrying home the face
That had launched a thousand ships
Dressed all in lace
With ruby red lips
Was the woman
Whom the Greeks,
That never ran,
Fought for ten long years or many weeks
To win
Was Helen
The woman with the great big sin
For she had killed many men!
Poetry Corner
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