Tending my flock was I, some years ago
When a ship appeared, with strange men aboard
One man led the lot, and I wished to know
His name; a request I thought above board
“Nobody,” was his enigmatic name
I ought to have known then he was a knave;
I thought his subterfuge was rather lame
And led he and his men into my cave
I ate a few and then succumbed to wine
When I awoke, the scoundrels blinded me!
They slipped the cave beneath my sheep, fine
Their egress I could feel but never see
They floated off, and as they did, he cried:
“Odysseus am I; in truth, I lied!”
About the Creator
D. J. Reddall
I write because my time is limited and my imagination is not.
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181 Keeping Watch
Each day she watched through her window. Watched? Perhaps an exaggeration: a monochromatic nuclear aftermath remaining of the world, blurring into a blindness--loss of contrast and depth of field. Achromatic aberrations displayed a waste-scape stratified in grays.
By Gerard DiLeo2 days ago in Fiction
Comments (4)
This is an art of clever.
Oooo, this was so clever! Brilliant work!
I used to have dreams about the Cyclops when I was a kid. It lived in our hayshed in my dreams. I blame Ray Harryhausen.
👍♥️