Pandora's Box

Poem By Marilyn Shepperson

In the days of yore, when the gods
Lived up on Mount Olympus
And interferred with human lives
As if we were their's to control
They fashioned Pandors from clay and water
Sending her down among mortals, to punish them
For Promethus's kind act of stealing
The secret of fire, without which we would not have survived
They knew she would prove untrustworthy
Yet Epimetheus took her to wife
Although supposedly the wisest of men
Captured by her beauty, in this he acted unwisely
In his house, he ordered her to do all the work
But forbade her the north room
Then left home to go away on business
Leaving Pandora alone
Now Pandora was a dutiful wife
But only up to a point
So, when the chores were all done
She soon became bored
And into the north room she went
Inside she found a beautiful box
The most beautiful she'd ever seen
Pandora thought that there must be
Something equally beautiful inside
She opened the box, it wasn't locked
And out flew millions of tiny things
That bit and stung poor Pandora
Before dispersing out into the world
Causing wars and sorrows where ever they went
Too late, Pandora shut the box
Vowing never to open it again
But when a tiny voice begged to be let out
She opened it one last time
As well she did, for the creature left
Was the one we call Hope
And though there's no cure for mankind
And all we have to endure
Even more so in this day and age
Where would we be without Hope.

Comments about Pandora's Box

Very interesting piece Marilyn! You've opened my eyes a bit to the old story of Pandora's box, thank you. Nice work. Sincerely, mary

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Overhead the crows are gathering
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The White Farmhouse

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