under the aurulent Aegean skies
the bireme slept silently
lying at anchor on shores
distant, strange, enchanted
a bed of azuline sea
rocking slowly, ever so gently,
to and fro. quiet, peace, solitude
gave the beach a quality d’or.
sands reflecting sun and sky
not a soul seen, incessant sea gulls
circled and sang sad calls
above this dreamland home.
surprised, landing on such a shore,
Agamemnon, commander of Achaeans,
who spilt the sanguineous life
of honorable men, cried mighty tears.
the stench of his stained hands
and cap, in robes argent then atrous,
rapidly drove away even
the foul, verminous gulls!
Bronze trophy winner
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