She dwelled deep in the dark woods, on the isle of Aeaea off the west coast of Italy in the Mediterranean Sea in a glorious palace all alone.

Alone you say? You would be wrong to think that. Oh very wrong indeed.

For she was surrounded by a menagerie of pets always keeping her company; from the wolves that roamed far and wide, to lions lazily lingering near her as she sat her throne, to the birds nesting at her feet, or the occasional pig rutting the grounds outside.

Some called her a Goddess, others knew her to be an enchantress, or the darkest of witches to ever run afoul of.

What ever she was, all knew her as Circe, the woman who lived on the island of Aeaea, with hair of flowing fiery rays and oftentimes a temper to suit. 

She was no temptress, yet some did claim her to be the daughter of a sea nymph, so that is perhaps why many a man was beguiled to find himself led to her isle.

Lucky you could be, if you were to find her. However, she did not suffer fools, for if you were funny and clever and easy on her eyes, she would take you as her lover and perhaps let you leave after a year and a day.

But be you arrogant or a swine, well, she would surely turn you into one, to rut the grounds of her great estate like the pig you were.

Turn away her advances of love and devotion, she might just concoct a potion for you to drink to transform your soul and form into that of a loyal lion always by her side.

Think you her better? She would send you to join the pack that roams the island always at her beck and call, and you would serve, oh so willingly with a snarl and a smile.

Oh, be you a resistant King come to call? Well, a bird you could become, wings clipped, with a special place for you nesting at her feet nearby.

Never satisfied was Circe of love being denied when wanting to be given, she is a cautionary tale of many a man’s follies followed soon by her own.

So diabolically desperate was she, always to love, that none ever did in return, for they always saw the darkness seething underneath tucked away in her heart.

Unrequited love will forever perhaps be her destiny until her heart finds its true form from whence it was first born, at peace, light, and burning with the intensity of a thousands suns.

By Philip Wardlow Dec 27th,2023