Aphrodite’s Three Apples 2


So the day of the race arrived
Flocks of people, so much hustle
Excitment on the peak as he got ready.
Atalanta in her furious speed and and he was humble Hippomenes
Her eyes were mocking and wide
Rediculing him with her pride
As the race began, all hailed him
She ran with the wind and he struggled to cope
With each passing minute, he threw the rosy red apples
Into the fields around
Each made Atalanta chase the red
Each passing moment, Atalanta fell behind
Each victorious minute, Hippomenes felt his destiny near
With the final throw of the apple
And the burst of speed, Hippomenes made way for his deeds
Won the race and took her for his own
For the magic of the three apples glittered and shone
Praised Aphrodite and raised to her glory
For he found his love
And married his maiden.

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