Playing the wind
like her lyre, dear
Terpsichore sits back.
Her music reins over
the raindrops and

teaches them the art
of dance. Like the
men of weak heart
passing by the sirens,
Zeus allows their souls
to be taken away. In
the moments left of
their lives that they
live, they create a
brilliant show. With
rainbows, twists, pops
and crackles, their
debut performance
brings much claps of
thunder from Zeus.

Terpsichore's vanity
increases the wind's
tempo, an encore to
the show until poor
Hera shows up, irate
with her husband's
lust and regains con-
trol of the skies,
the rain, the winds.

And again, the dear
Muse Terpsichore
sits backā€”but now
her fingers still.