helen

 irresistible,

 you see her walking,

 her hands full of poppies

 and silver-gilt barley

 you cannot help but follow

 the sway of her hips

 in flounced skirts,

 the sway of her breasts above,

 the gold and faience beads

 sliding over gleaming skin

 brows like a swallow’s wing

 reddened lips

 and scarlet suns painted

 on her cheeks and chin

 kohl-lined eyes

 deeper than the sacred pool 

 she has aphrodite’s love

 all men are fools for her,

 all women too

 the poets will get it wrong

 they will forget

 her power was of the earth and sky,

 not just of lovers’ sighs,

 yet that the two were linked

 in their songs

 they put too much eris and thanatos,

 a sullied eros only,

 a betrayal of charis,

 too many bright blades

 and cities burning

 in her world

 her beauty was not a tragic gift,

 but an emblem:

 the favor of the gods made clear,

 a kingdom’s talisman

 against all want and fear,

 the sun’s own child,

 her radiant face

 fortune’s magnet

 she is waving grain,

 figs and olives bending branches,

 rain on the fields,

 bounding lambs,

 dripping combs,

 grapes bursting in the wine vats,

 children laughing in the lanes,

 the glowing sun

 drawing goodness from the land

 when she stretches out her hand

 the earth hearkens

 let the girls dance for her by the river,

 let matrons offer mirrors in her temple,

 let men watch her walk 

 and ache

 she is the spark

 that lights all fire

 dispelling all dark

 irresistible