Penelope

Twenty winters she waited
Her affections wavered not.
We know now how our eyes might see,
But oh! What a beauty she was!

Eight and hundred suitors there were,
Their pursuit, relentless.
The adoration, though she did enjoy
Her heart, on Odysseus, was set.

A vagrant then did arrive, appallingly audacious
"To marry Penelope, my sole desire."
"One condition," she declared,
"Odysseus' bow thou shalt string- the arrow, pierce twelve axe shafts.
The victor, my mate shall be."
A soft snicker, she settled to watch,
For the bow would yield to none but Odysseus.

The beggar, victorious did emerge
Incredible, though it seemed.
Thus spake he,"It is I, Odysseus, my love.
To thy fidelity, I do bow."