You know I love your poetry, I am also the worst at prompting though. So here are a few ideas, pick any one (or none if they all make you D:) 1) time of giants is past 2) stealing from Leonard Cohen, heroes in the seaweed 3) Autumn days or 4) dish ran away with the spoon.
Turnus’ Stone (The time of giants is past)
Virgilius Maro, wandering the Lavinian shorefinds a grey stone opening the landscape like a scara man’s height or more; a barbarian menhir;hard-fallen like the fall of ancient honourand wheat-roots choking down the old blood & fire,the last mad hefting of it; the cold horrorof the soldier’s legs buckling like a man in a nightmare.Ten men now could not lift it any higherthan its still green grave unturned by the tiller:Virgil knows, now, who the great men really arewhose deeds in fresh bronze actually matterand the golden flash of the sword over helpless Furorwith the necessary iron muzzling its protesting jaws:farewell, old Republic; farewell, civil wars.