The ancient Romans, and that is not new, Had lots of deities, quite a few. The beauty of Venus we still admire. Her husband was Vulcan, the god of fire.
That Vulcan was strong and according to myth
He worked under ground in his forge, as a smith.
But Venus, they said, had her eyes on another
Which Vulcan, of course, found distressing, rather.
He pumped on the bellows in anger so well,
The fire he blew at grew hotter than hell
And everything melted, rocks, iron, and all.
That magma then pushed up Vesuvius tall,
And Etna, Colima, and Mauna Loa,
Pelé and St. Helens and Krakatoa.
Way down in his cave, at the heavens’ back portal,
We think he’s still scheming, for gods are immortal!
Lest Vulcan and Venus restructure their nuptials
I fear we’ll have more of those frightful eruptials.
(c)2017 by Herbert H. Hoffman
Picture credits: spaceplace.nasa.gov