Grandmother sat by the warm fire
To begin the evening’s story
The children lay about the floor
She began to tell of Circe.
“Hear now children of wanton men,
Who sailed with brave bold Odysseus,
In a boat through the waterways
Of the Mediterranean …
Past siren’s hallucinations,
(Whom Odysseus escaped with wax and ropes)
Met they Cyclops and Calypso
Fought the sea that tempests did roil …
Then one day met a goddess witch.
They came upon the sparkling seas
Upon the island of Circe.
They docked their boat in her harbour,
Then walked inside her murky wood.
Not far from the witch goddess’ home,
Lions roamed there but did not kill,
Docile vision: otter with bears …
Foregrounding them to think of peace,
When in truth caution was far wiser.”
For you must know children, hear on …
“Her art, without brush or palette
Was grounded in magic herb lore
She created her potent potions
Dissecting plants and curving truth,
Creating spirals of illusion …
She’d coil a man’s spirit like rope.
They came upon an edifice,
Near a curve and a bricked off cave,
They pulled their swords boldy, then saw,
A table of food and wine laid …
A vision a painter would love:
Perfect harmony and color!
Then a maiden with a sheep crook,
Welcomed the men and smiled demur:
“Strip off your dirty rags my friends …
I’ll call my maidens to bathe you …
Then you all shall feast and make love!”
‘Twas Circe in disguise, you see.
She tricked them all … no, one was wise,
He used forethought and hid away,
For he didn’t trust the lady.
And well for him he did hold back,
The others were turned into swine
And made to wallow in rank mud.
Eurylochus escaped this fate …
He ran then floated to his boat,
He warned Odysseus his master
Who left at once to save his men!”
(Children this is a very long tale,
There are many more verses still,
Before I go on with my story
I’ll have some soda to quench my thirst.)
“Now Hermes met Odysseus soon …
Barbara: docked, strip, used
Rick: brush, painter, palette
Misky: float, bricked, boat
Stimmyabby: hallucinations, crook, soda
Don: kill, edifice, dies
Jules: waterways, surface, otter
Irene: vision, art, foregrounding
Hannah: coil, spirals, ropes
Roslyn: roil, dissecting, truth
Sabra: murky, sparkling, curve
Bastet: Circe, wanton, wallow
This was a fantastic Wordle…and if I’m not mistaken, I think I got them all into the poem!