With arcing arm the bundle spirals high
triumphantly up, then transforms-down
stout ship emerges from meagre supply
proud-eyed at prow and sail-swollen-gowned.
Penelope gasps out astonishment
for brave bark grew from barest components
while kind Goddess holds her admonishment,
she gestures speechless for many moments.
Taking her arm to calm, Aphrodite
enlightens how threads and splinters of loom
formed ship for Mediterranean sea
while feathers the chore of oaring assumed.
'Now my Sweet Favourite, there only remains,
the question of crew to rid you of chains.'
YOU ARE READING
Dragonish
PoetryPART 1: Seven poems that explore love. The sated wind doodles mischievously no longer the ravening raptor loosed that scratched sharp claws to my unfettered glee. Now are you temperate, husky, obtuse. PART 2: Follows the tale of a persecuted dragon...
