Persephone’s Dream

DELBERT R. GARDNER

Persephone’s Dream

I live with my father in a house of many rooms (In my father’s house are many mansions). Each day a handsome blade pays court to me (With golden hair and violet eyes and the sweetest smile). I think I love him; probably we will marry. He’s very respectful to Father, who stands behind My chair (a highly ornate and cushioned affair Faintly redolent of dust and incense)–A pose like those in Victorian family portraits. The young man brings me gifts and kneels before me; His little golden moustache tickles slightly When he presses my hand with reverence to his lips. He speaks to Father of his love and of his prospects; And Father nods and smiles, offers cigars. Later my lover takes his leave with a smile That bathes me in a beatific light. I feel that I will burst with happiness.

But when night falls and Father and I retire, He to a room many echoing chambers from mine, A cloud of vast uneasiness descends, Foreboding what I know will happen soon: At the window the night marauder will appear And try to destroy me. I have no defense; I am as vulnerable as an opened oyster; He can scoop me up and devour me With a lewd smacking of lips, and I will be nothing. Suddenly there he is, as I foresaw, His head and shoulders framed by the window casing. He is changed: the mild violet eyes Are turned to pitiless purple, the moustache Is stained with blood, the sensual underlip Is overhung with hideous fangs. I know There is not a drop of mercy in his being, Only voracious lust to drink my blood Till I am pale as an ivory figurine, And then to carry me to his underground lair

Where he will cut me into seven portions For seven ritual meals with subtle music. He doesn’t speak, but I know what he is thinking.

The shoulders stir, preparing for a leap; He sucks his underlip beneath his fangs And expels his breath with terrifying hiss. Dissolved with fear, I try to rise from bed, But my legs refuse to move. He suddenly bounds Into the room, and--I don’t know how-- I am flying, flying, flapping my feathered arms And trailing my useless legs behind me. I flit Through many rooms just out of reach of the demon, While he pursues with intermittent leaps. My mouth forms soundless words: “O Father, save me!” Then I am kneeling in my father’s room Beside the bed and sobbing out my fear; The beast, I know, will not come through this door.

Drowsy and grumpy, Father rouses up. “Go back to bed; it’s only a foolish dream.” “I can’t go back to my room alone,” I whimper. “The fiend is waiting right outside the door!” But Father doesn’t understand the horror; To him it’s only a silly girlish fear, And he wants his sleep. I plead with him, For if I can stay with him till morning comes Or till the dream is over (I vaguely sense That I am dreaming), I know I will be safe. He finally lets me curl up in a chair, Where I doze securely (almost) till the dawn. But a time will come when Father will send me out Into the night marauder’s arms; and from That dream of death, can I awake to love?

Poetry Persephone’s Dream About The Author

Dr. Delbert R. Gardner (www.gardnercastle. com), World War II veteran (Army Air Forces), used the G.I. Bill to become the first member of his family to attend college. For twenty-one years, he taught English literature and creative writing at Keuka College, Lycoming College, and Syracuse University. Over seventy of his poems, stories, and essays appear in Lamplight, Mythic Delirium, Goblin Fruit, The Literary Review, Poetry Digest, American Poetry Magazine, and more. A scholar of the Pre-Raphaelites, he wrote An “Idle Singer” and His Audience: A Study of William Morris’s Poetic Reputation in England, 1858-1900. His daughter, Adele Gardner, serves as literary executor.

Fiction On the Subject of Seeds

Words by Geoffrey Bunting

About the story

Shocking absolutely no one, women are given a rather poor show in Greek myth. Despite her name being in the title of the story, Persephone is often relegated to the periphery of The Abduction of Persephone, while Hades and Demeter fuck about negotiating whether the Greeks get crops all year or only half.

Despite the promiscuous nature of the Greek gods, with Zeus in particular being a real sloppy bitch, the relationship between Hades and Persephone stands out as one of mutual respect, fidelity, and understanding – free from the violence and faithlessness that punctuates so many godly relations. I wanted to show a slightly different side of the story in its original context, in which Persephone takes the lead in the relationship and which demonstrates the actual power that many goddesses held despite the way they were written by Greek men.