Penelope

© Andrew Calhoun

Penelope, Penelope, I only can hope,
Someday you'll be pronounced as you're spelled: Pen-elope.
Odysseus loved Penelope, but planned to cross the raging sea
With mighty Agammemnon; many "m"s and "n"s had he.
He left his dear Penelope, he'd loved her from a boy
(That is to say, since he was a boy),
And roamed in regal panoply, to sack the town of Troy.
And on his way home, he met monsters like this:
The sirens, and the cyclops; Scylla, and Charybdis.
But he pressed ever onward, as thoughts of Penelope
Inspired Odysseus' own personal odyssey.
And when he had finished his hero's journey,
He still had to argue like a trial attorney
To convince his wife that he truly was he;
Once again to sack Penelope.

(A small aside here: I wish I could goose
People who say 'Oh-dis-ee-iss' instead of 'Oh-dis-oose.')

Doesn't Penelope sound like an adjective?:
As: "The dog looks Penelope, but I guess he'll live";
Or an adverb, if you said "Peneloply" (or, "Peneloplily"!)
Or a general, perhaps: "Penelop E. Lee."

The pen-elope roams through the grassy savannah
Of some vanishing habitat, searching for manna;
Sniffing for eggplants in furrows and fens,
It's like a small antelope, made out of pens.
A person can, but a can can't, elope;
Nor can a canteloupe elope.
But if a pen can address an envelope,
Can an envelope and pen elope?
An antelope and pen-elope met at a dance
(The prior a pen-elope, made out of ants),
The antelope hoped to elope with the pen-elope,
Arousing the envious ire of the envelope.
The antelope bellowed and, tossing its horns,
Began pushing the envelope into the thorns.
But the envelope opened, a mine to a miner,
A symbol of womanhood; if you will, a vagina.
And here I speak frankly, for poets are bores
When they beat kround the bush with extended metaphors
Though I blush to describe this unique intercourse,
The antelope, as you know, is hung like a horse.
The pen-elope watched and fresh knowledge was gleaning,
As lmailing an envelopen took on new meaning.
And proving again love's a slippery slope,
The envelope then eloped with the pen-elope!

If Penelope came back to life,
The one of Greek legend, Odysseus' wife
My song might cause her yet more anguish
(Assuming she'd comprehend the language),
For offending this lady of grand tradition,
I'd be arrested, condemned, and sent off to prison
Subsisting on gruel there, leg tied with a rope,
I'd likely develop a bit of a lope.
I'd dream of Odysseus, of escaping as he,
And take my penal lope home to Penelope.

Then we'd take our ease, and with her back to life
Would she yet be too proud to be my wedded wife?
Considering chaos, regressions and entropy
Might passions develop between me and Penelope?