Odysseus sees Her.

Stepped in golden sandals,
she appears from behind a tree.
A balanced arboreal frame,
vibrating, emitting arrant harmony.
Sly lengthy elegance,
wealthy in mystery,
her shy bangs drip smartly,
drawn about, circumscribing
a just scape,
knowing and fair,
radiant and rare.
Taut limbs intoning, veracious of their grace,
bright eyes inviting and clever as they dance,
curves of bronze bound in satin,
her opulence conferred through classic study.
A subtle brush, a potent glance,
the journeyed hero sees truly,
his certitude congealed,
in flesh and robe and sight,
is Pallas Athene revealed.