Philomela.
The sun burned down on Athens
on that day. Parched trees
along the avenues afforded shade
for those who had to walk
the sizzling streets.
She was indoors….
she moved amongst the Marble Halls.
She loved to sing…
And she was cool and comfortable…
until..King Tereus arrived.
The lusting Tereus had carnal
on his mind. And uninvited
pounced like some huge ape…he raped…
then threw her to the ground.
Philomela… shaken… glared at him.
Defiantly she spat at him…
‘I guarantee I will revenge you this
and spread the word of what it is
that you have done to me.’
Tereus fearing shame cut out her tongue
and fled the scene in cowardly retreat.
Philomela…. just as a Female Nightingale..
was rendered mute.
In solitude, she learned sagacity
might well outwit her doomed catastrophe.
She set about to weave a telling tapestry..
and there within each single silver stitch,
with every weave of gold….
The Story of her Stolen Life…
The Story of her Rape was told.
And….we now know it.
Kristine Byrne. Jan 13th 2018
Image…Guarino 17th cent.