Saturn:

Saturn is everything, but I snagged a little corner of him in a poem that Ekphrastic Review ran last week:

        They would dub his the Golden Age
        which he'd predicted and molded
        but didn't contemplate.
        Even gods can’t quite imagine their ends.

Even now, as usual, I can't help but re-write:

    They would dub his age Golden / as he'd predicted and molded / but didn't see whole...

Hmmmm. 

    / but never saw whole 

    / but didn't fathom...? 

Good afternoon.