The Eye of Medusa
Set in the mountains with sapphire fountains,
That spring from the limestone and rock,
Rhapsodic skies speaking soft lullabies,
Hemmed with clouds of white lace like a frock.
An orange infusion in pastel diffusion,
A welkin of apricot glow,
A backdrop so lovely and luscious in tone,
With mountains and lakes spread below.
The name of the mountain peak, sharp as a fang,
Brandished unto the fair skies,
“The Eye of Medusa”, for everything’s stone,
Bar fountains that spill from her eyes.
Upon the lake heaving and buffeted o’er,
A sailor was fishing for eel,
When out of the water, and seeking his slaughter,
A Kraken did grab to his keel.
Now screaming for mercy and flailing in fright,
And dancing a dance on the prow,
The sailor in mortified shock at the sight,
Screamed, “God above save me somehow!”
But unlike old Jonah, beset by the whale,
Jehovah was absent this day,
The heavens were shrouded in clouds grey as steel,
And Orson was lost in the fray.
The forceful wind howling and bitterly yowling,
The tentacles latched to his craft,
The boat toppled o’er, he fell to his doom,
With hardly a scrap for a raft.
His woebegone person was shortly a meal,
The Kraken in gluttony fed,
The Eye of Medusa a witness nearby;
Orson the fisherman dead!
AD Lovkis, 22/08/25
adamdaniel 