‘Apollo Builds Troy with His Lyre’ by James Sale The Society July 30, 2014 Beauty, Culture, Poetry 6 Comments A miracle, how else to say it then? At first, but ground, absolutely nothing there, A river meandering by, some cattle, gorse, Nettle and herbs whose use proved no sure cure. Then, as if by magic, he stood majestic, by – Conjured from out thin air his being gainsaid Something – at first a stone, and then a column. Up, up, it went as if to spear the sky: A point, a pinnacle to span the vacuum Between earth and heaven; and how he shone, How bright his helmet, and how his shield hung; But nothing compared with his sublime lyre: The tune he plucked – to which his voice, soft, sang. Incredible, the god Apollo before The wall that rose visible each note he played: Coming into being that which was not – The whole of Troy, that destiny long delayed. And the god’s eyes glittered as they saw too What only he could in the long before. Completed, topless towers standing proud. How long? 9, 11 minutes tops? Who’s sure? Only as the city took its rising shape And the great god basked in self-adulation, His dawning eyes wavered, once, as he felt One fearful tear – and whither its destination. James Sale is a motivational speaker and poet in the United Kingdom. Featured Image: “Le Mont Parnasse ou Apollon et les Muses” by Simon Vouet (1590-1649). Views expressed by individual poets and writers on this website and by commenters do not represent the views of the entire Society. The comments section on regular posts is meant to be a place for civil and fruitful discussion. Pseudonyms are discouraged. The individual poet or writer featured in a post has the ability to remove any or all comments by emailing submissions@ classicalpoets.org with the details and under the subject title “Remove Comment.” Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window)Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) 6 Responses Shari Jo LeKane-Yentumi July 30, 2014 Dear James, Absolutely wonderful poetry. Reply james sale August 10, 2014 Thank you Shari – really appreciate your enthusiasm. This website from Evan Mantyk is truly remarkable and I hope it continues to build over the years with top quality poets and readers. Reply Joanie Hieger Fritz Zosike July 30, 2014 Well crafted and moving. Tells the story clearly. Has its own vision. Reply james sale August 10, 2014 I appreciate what you say, Joanie – what we all want: to be able to express our vision, but most of all to be ‘moving’ – for if poetry cannot do that then it may as well be prose! Thank you. Reply Reid McGrath August 4, 2014 The plethora of commas creates a sort of rumbling (for lack of a better word), building sensation in this piece, which works well with the theme of your poem. What I like, more specifically, is that this “rumbling” element also portends the Fall you allude to in the last line, with the “fearful tear,” as anything that is built up in blocks can also come tumbling down in blocks as well. Reply james sale August 10, 2014 I like people who apply analytics to poems and I do it myself all the time: how is that effect created? And it is very gratifying to find a reader who can do that too – thank you. You are a pretty dab hand at using commas (and semi-colons) yourself: witness Metamorphic Rock – congrats on your prize – an excellent collection. Reply Leave a Reply Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.