Homer and Hestia

Your grin is not a tender friend to me
The unripe fruit of laughter's bitter skin
Disappoints the fair youth of our seed,
Turns green before our riding can begin.

To far Olympus or Kenai I long to steal
In search of clarify and carbon stone.
Evade ancestral ties, appeal
To drown a flame uncouth and monotone.

Yet I must guard this fire ill and odd,
Although its fever burns against my veins.
Because what fuels this flaming fierce facade,
Is love alone, and love remains.

So brother, we may part for fifty miles,
I'll guard the fruit and fire, fresh and vile.