Some Poems Honoring The Blessed Fates

The Three Fates

Clotho, who spins the thread
Lachesis, who measures the threads
Atropos, who cuts the threads

Haiku By Ginger Strivelli

The Fates weave and spin
out and in, so tangling
I am strangling!

Invoking the Fates
By Ginger Strivelli

Clotho who spins my thread
to whom I bow my head
for She knows the way
of what not to say
I ask of Her, to bless
whatever I do mess

Lachesis who does measure
my thread, Her I will treasure
for She will, I beg, help me
feel, smell, taste, hear and see
what I need to notice
and what I should dismiss

Atropos who cuts the thread's end
I ask Her to help me mend
So that I finish my stories
and outlast my worries
leaving nothing unsaid
and undone before I am dead

Questioning the Fates
By Ginger Strivelli

Oh Fates, why art thou so cruel?
Murderous without the fairness of a duel,
You weaved my troubles long ago.
I had no chance to even know.
You have tangled my web with glee.
Are the three of you laughing at me?
What shall I ever do to surpass?
These constant troubles...but alas,
My troubles do pale beside my blessings,
And I do enjoy more births than passings.
Perhaps thou art not so cruel, dear Fates,
For truly I have more loves than hates.
Maybe my web is tangled to be strong.
Maybe such trials are to humor me all along.
Oh Fates, thou art so perplexing.
Are thou both blessing me and hexing?
Goddesses do you even know what you weave?
Do you just birth what we mortals conceive?
Are you as blind to the future as we?
Does your web go where even you can't see?

TO ENJOY THE TIME by: Robert Herrick

While fates permit us, let's be merry;
Pass all we must the fatal ferry;
And this our life, too, whirls away,
With the rotation of the day.

Lines written in 1807 By Lord Byron


OH, say not, sweet Anne, that the Fates have decreed
   The heart which adores you should wish to dissever;
Such Fates were to me most unkind ones indeed,
   To bear me from love and from beauty for ever.

Your frowns, lovely girl, are the Fates which alone 
   Could bid me from fond admiration refrain;
By these, every hope, every wish were o'erthrown,
   Till smiles should restore me to rapture again.

As the ivy and oak, in the forest entwined,
   The rage of the tempest united must weather;     
My love and my life were by nature design'd
   To flourish alike, or to perish together.

Then say not, sweet Anne, that the Fates have decreed
   Your lover should bid you a lasting adieu;
Till Fate can ordain that his bosom shall bleed,
   His soul, his existence, are centred in you.

Back to main menu