300?

Way back in the Fifth Century
B.C. not Anno Domini
The Greek and Persian armies clashed
In battle at Thermopylae.

King Xerxes started all the fuss
By aping daddy Darius,
Who many years before had tried
To beat the Greeks; their win, his loss.

His army, scores of thousands strong,
Amassed, and made the journey –long!–
Through Persia, Thrace, then Macedon.
Who'd fling their lives at such a throng?

The disp'rate Greeks allayed their hates.
They kinda sussed that all their fates
Were intertwined. They duly formed
An army from their city-states.

The Spartan men should take the lead
(The toughest dudes, they all agreed).
But yikes! It was Carneia-time.
The ephors had to intercede...

Now blessed, the Spartans marched their men,
Some say in thirty groups of ten.
The Oracle forewarned their king
He'd never see his home again.

But adamant Leonidas
Was up for kicking Persian ass!
With fifty foes to face each friend,
He slyly chose a narrow pass.

Three days they held Thermopylae
Till Ephialtes' treachery.
Surrounded, skewered, severed, slain;
They won a hollow victory.

I'm privileged to comprehend
How many really met their end.
Each word commemorates a soul;
You'll calculate 200, friend.

Spring Ditty

The playful cheeriness of Spring
Has once more conquered Winter's grim
Resolve. (Such a tenacious clutch -
But gone now, thank you very much!)