A vain hope

For dverse. Well, we got Echo and Narcissus again.

A vain hope

He lounges by the pool in the golden dawn,
where hare and fawn drink and dream-like days unspool.

She calls, but her tongue is tied, he doesn’t hear,
her pleading is unclear. When purple evening falls,

he drains his cup, sighs his name. Golden Echo cries,
Narcissus! Eyes brim when he at last looks up.

Author: Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

28 thoughts on “A vain hope”

  1. That’s the thing about mythology: we can return to it again and again and always find something new to inspire us. Although, whenever I see the words ‘Golden Dawn’, I think of Dublin and a vegetarian restaurant I used to go to – and, of course, W.B. Yeats and Madame Blavatsky.

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