(thanks to Dazinbane for this picture)
A young Andromeda,
full of her nakedness,
chained. The rocks’ harshness,
coarse crusta chafing
soft skin, yet she’s not scared –
she’ll cope when it comes …
When it comes...
Where will it come?
From a trough in the strong surge,
slithering through sea-wrack,
clawing from a cliff-cleft –
Where will it come?
Early shocks startle,
a bird’s cry alarms,
a loose pebble tumbles –
she tugs the tight irons.
Weary the long wait,
flies swarm to warm sweat,
arms ache with chains’ weight,
thirst burns her throat.
Slow, down the sun glides,
gilding her girlskin,
salt-sore eyes scouring
the dim-shadowed shoals.
Shapes form and vanish,
cliffs echo eerie howls,
sea, where her death lurks,
creeps up the shore.
Smoored by black stormclouds
light leaves her, lonely,
wind whisks her sharply,
she shivers – yes, fear!
Surf swills around her,
skin swamped with salt-spray,
wrathful round lissom legs
foam spatters, ripped kelp’s
thrashing her thighs.
Surely it’s time now?
Sharply she stiffens,
sensing she’s watched now –
sea-snake eyes scanning,
her skin knows for sure!
Shrinks against sharp stones,
braced against boulders,
silent, not daring to breathe …
As it circles her, slowly …
Assessing, inspecting,
savouring in silence
the scent of her fear.
No-one could warn her
how it will be now,
how savage the seizure,
how cruel the prey-play!
Whip-whisk her death-dance
hurls her like spindrift,
lobbed across breakers,
spreadeagled in spray!
Till, score settled, sea ebbs,
crabs scavenge spattered crags,
gulls squabble, girl-scraps
scatter the sand.
Tangled in tide-wrack,
in daybreak sun glinting,
damp with the shore-scum,
a few flaxen strands.
What no Perseus?
Haunting and atmospheric, evoking the tension between beauty and decay.
In that 'sea-snake eyes scanning' stanza, I'm trying to convey something that I think is much more a part of being a woman than a man (though I dare say men can experience it), the sudden, instinctive sense of being watched, looked at, observed - even before we see or know in any other way who or what's gazing at us...
Should I "reward" you like I did last time?
Still, ye can git oot yer tawse, a'll hitch up ma wee kiltie...
Note me if you got it.
The story of Andromeda is also one of my favorite part of Greco-Roman mythology, but I do like Perseus' intervention at the end. I doubt it happened the way it is told in the traditional version, though. Surely he would demand a major reward for the crucial service he had provided, right? And considering the she owed her very life to him, a lifetime of bond servitude would not be too much to ask for, I believe.
So there...I hope I have given you a good reason to let poor Perseus live, Eulalia.
Hmm… Now I’m pondering the possibility of a render series on the subject: I’ve got a dragon, a horse (but no saddle), various kinds of armor to pick from for a St. George (but not for a Perseus), and chains or ropes for the girl. …Probably won’t do it, but it’s an idea.