Penelope (English Sonnet) Poem by Gert Strydom

Far off to another land under a distant sun
setting his sails to the prevailing breeze,
far past where the horizon and sky is one
he sailed away on the Aegean seas,

with his men went to war against Troy
while constantly I weave the tiny thread
and he left me here along with his boy
where for years alone I do lie in my bed.

Every morning when the breeze is whispering
from the very first light of day I wait on him,
do hear gallant knights their songs to me sing
while now my hope, my faith do become dim

but I watch from up high past the furthest wave
as Odysseus truly loves me and he is very brave.

© Gert Strydom