Phoebus rides her wing’ed chariot
Graceful’y o’er the waning sun
Whilst Zeus in fiery declination
Bids the darkling e’entide come.
Swift she urges on her horses
Lest the world be trapped in light;
And the babies’ sleep be sundered,
mortals sleep, but without night.
Hark!, the chariot’s wheel is loos’ning,
Silver’d cloud must swift be found,
A place of rest to curb the chariot:
Its dam’ned wheel is out of round.
Calls she now on dark Apollo:
Hasten, Love, the journey falters,
Also now, I deeply fear,
My team it slippeth from its halters.
She be stranded by the wayside,
Motive power hath flewn a’wee;
Folly now compounds her trouble:
She’s locked her out without no key.
Phoebus, art thou merely woman?
Cans’t thou not a simple thing
Like drive the chariot from here to yon
Without infernal problems bring?
Woe to you, poor dear Apollo,
Thou’rt with mortal female stuck;
Night’s stalled, babes cry, she needs a tow
Eternally—buy her a truck!
to Suann Hudson on the occasion of
her third mishap whilst heading home from work