Polyphemus

                                   Polyphemus                            (After: J.W.M. Turner)        At dawn they’d spiked his Cyclopean eye As he still deeply dreamed in stupored sleep. Sightlessly bloodied, he had heard their shouts As, from beneath his giant sheep, they dropped And […]

                                   Polyphemus

                           (After: J.W.M. Turner)

 

     At dawn they’d spiked his Cyclopean eye

As he still deeply dreamed in stupored sleep.

Sightlessly bloodied, he had heard their shouts

As, from beneath his giant sheep, they dropped

And rushed to where their vessels waited near.

     Roaring with pain, and hungry for revenge,

He’d groped his way along familiar tracks

In murderous pursuit.

                                     And now he looms,

Cloudy against the rising sun, taller

Than beetling cliffs, from which he fiercely hurls

Huge boulders at those fleeing ships that bear

     Odysseus and his crews from blinded rage;

Whist they set hurried sails once more, frantic to find

That distant homeland which obsessed each nomad mind.

Author: J. A. Bosworth

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