From seafoam swell and salted light,
She rose at dawn, serene and white,
A pearl unprised from ocean’s hold,
With eyes like dusk and hair like gold.
No mother’s hands nor mortal womb,
She bloomed amid the surf’s perfume,
The waves made way, the winds knelt low,
And whispered hymns the gods would know.
The sparrows sang, the roses climbed,
Each blossom born in perfect time,
And from the shore the world stood still,
For beauty bends both fate and will.
She smiled, and hearts began to burn,
A glance, and empires failed to turn,
Her silence sweeter than a hymn,
Her wrath a tide that none could swim.
For though her touch is soft and sweet,
Beware the thorns beneath her feet,
For love, though dressed in silk and grace,
Can scorch the stars and strip their place.
So praise the foam, the bloom, the fire,
But do not scorn what gods desire.
For Aphrodite, fair and wild,
Is never just a pretty child.
© 2025
The Royal Octopus 