- Fantasy imagery
- The poem begins abruptly
- ‘born from an egg’- mythological
- Almost otherworldly
- Placing woman on pedestal
Further reinforce god- like manner
She was born from an egg,
A daughter of the gods, Semantic field of beauty- holds great
Divinely fair, a pearl, drop- dead position in society.
Gorgeous, beautiful, a peach,
A child of grace, a stunner, in her face
The starlike sorrows of immortal eyes. Melancholic tone, burden that beauty has,
Who looked there, loved. beauty keeps you alive in peoples minds.
She won the heart Caesura, suggests the desperation
Of every man she saw. of the men that follow
They stood in line, sighed,
Knelt, beseeched Be Mine. Italics, oozes how possessive the male
She married one, species are. Its intimidating how
But every man she saw dangerous possession can be as is
They stood in line, sighed, revealed.
Knelt, beseeched Be Mine.
She married one, The attention her beauty brings is overwhelming that she’s had
But every other mother’s son to escape.
Swore to be true to her Fled, the past tense of flee suggests that a woman of great power
Till death, enchanted which falls within her beauty has been reduced down to prey and
By the perfume of her breath, the men predators which links to the theme of exploitation and
Her skin’s celebrity. possession and danger.
So when she took a lover, fled ,
Was nowhere to be seen,
Her side of the bed unslept in, cold,
The small coin of her wedding ring
Left on the bedside table like a trip,
The wardrobe empty
Of the drama of her clothes,
It was War Fighting for her?
A thousand ships-
May be able to link with Desdemona and her
On every one a thousand men,
handkerchief. Started/Symbolised her downfall at the hands of
Each heaving at an oar
male rage as her husband couldn’t believe her. Suggests that
Each with her face
this may also be Helens downfall at the hands of male rage as
Before his stinging eyes,
handkerchiefs may symbolise a woman's favour and likeness to
Her named tattooed
a man.
Upon the muscle of his arm,
A handkerchief she’d dropped once
For his lucky charm, each seeing her as a local girl
Made good, the girl next door,
A princess with the common touch,
, Simile. Foreshadows the disaster that
will ensue before the end of the first
Queen of his heart, pin- up, superstar, section.
The heads of every coin he’d tossed,
The smile on every note he’d bet at cards-
Bragged and shoved across a thousand miles of sea.
Meanwhile, lovely she lay high up
In a foreign castle’s walls, clasped
In a hero’s brawn, loved and loved
And loved agaun, her cries
Like the bird of the calamity’s, drifting down to the boys at the gates
Who marched now to the syllables of her name.
Beauty is fame. Some said
She turned into a cloud
And floated home,
Falling there like rain, or tears,
Upon her husband’s face.
Some said her lover woke
To find her gone,
His sword and clothes gone too,
Before they sliced a last grin in his throat.
Some swore they saw her smuggled
On a boat dressed as a boy,
Rowed to a ship which away at dusk,
Beckoned by the finger of the moon.
Some vowed that they were in the crowd
That saw her hung, stared up at her body
As it swung there on the creaking rope,
And noticed how the black silk of her dress
Clung to her form, a stylish shroud.
Her maid, who loved her most,
Refused to say one word
To anyone at any time or place,
Would not describe
One aspect of her face
Or tell one anectode about her life and loves.
But lived alone
And kept a little bird inside a cage.
***
She never aged.
She sashayed up the river
Ina golden barge,
- The poem begins abruptly
- ‘born from an egg’- mythological
- Almost otherworldly
- Placing woman on pedestal
Further reinforce god- like manner
She was born from an egg,
A daughter of the gods, Semantic field of beauty- holds great
Divinely fair, a pearl, drop- dead position in society.
Gorgeous, beautiful, a peach,
A child of grace, a stunner, in her face
The starlike sorrows of immortal eyes. Melancholic tone, burden that beauty has,
Who looked there, loved. beauty keeps you alive in peoples minds.
She won the heart Caesura, suggests the desperation
Of every man she saw. of the men that follow
They stood in line, sighed,
Knelt, beseeched Be Mine. Italics, oozes how possessive the male
She married one, species are. Its intimidating how
But every man she saw dangerous possession can be as is
They stood in line, sighed, revealed.
Knelt, beseeched Be Mine.
She married one, The attention her beauty brings is overwhelming that she’s had
But every other mother’s son to escape.
Swore to be true to her Fled, the past tense of flee suggests that a woman of great power
Till death, enchanted which falls within her beauty has been reduced down to prey and
By the perfume of her breath, the men predators which links to the theme of exploitation and
Her skin’s celebrity. possession and danger.
So when she took a lover, fled ,
Was nowhere to be seen,
Her side of the bed unslept in, cold,
The small coin of her wedding ring
Left on the bedside table like a trip,
The wardrobe empty
Of the drama of her clothes,
It was War Fighting for her?
A thousand ships-
May be able to link with Desdemona and her
On every one a thousand men,
handkerchief. Started/Symbolised her downfall at the hands of
Each heaving at an oar
male rage as her husband couldn’t believe her. Suggests that
Each with her face
this may also be Helens downfall at the hands of male rage as
Before his stinging eyes,
handkerchiefs may symbolise a woman's favour and likeness to
Her named tattooed
a man.
Upon the muscle of his arm,
A handkerchief she’d dropped once
For his lucky charm, each seeing her as a local girl
Made good, the girl next door,
A princess with the common touch,
, Simile. Foreshadows the disaster that
will ensue before the end of the first
Queen of his heart, pin- up, superstar, section.
The heads of every coin he’d tossed,
The smile on every note he’d bet at cards-
Bragged and shoved across a thousand miles of sea.
Meanwhile, lovely she lay high up
In a foreign castle’s walls, clasped
In a hero’s brawn, loved and loved
And loved agaun, her cries
Like the bird of the calamity’s, drifting down to the boys at the gates
Who marched now to the syllables of her name.
Beauty is fame. Some said
She turned into a cloud
And floated home,
Falling there like rain, or tears,
Upon her husband’s face.
Some said her lover woke
To find her gone,
His sword and clothes gone too,
Before they sliced a last grin in his throat.
Some swore they saw her smuggled
On a boat dressed as a boy,
Rowed to a ship which away at dusk,
Beckoned by the finger of the moon.
Some vowed that they were in the crowd
That saw her hung, stared up at her body
As it swung there on the creaking rope,
And noticed how the black silk of her dress
Clung to her form, a stylish shroud.
Her maid, who loved her most,
Refused to say one word
To anyone at any time or place,
Would not describe
One aspect of her face
Or tell one anectode about her life and loves.
But lived alone
And kept a little bird inside a cage.
***
She never aged.
She sashayed up the river
Ina golden barge,
