A lady pen, wrote of love in meter,
from on the Grecian isle and ancient time.
For womankind, was honey ever sweeter?
She was not condemned, when she made her rhyme
A lyrist, her words were made for singing,
Plato’s muse she inspires from long ago.
Her name now echoes as a bell ringing
A way of loving she has set aglow.
From that isle, she refined her own beat,
and thus her name remains as poem form.
Given pride too, as we measure the feet,
a genre of art bring critical storm.
No shame now, we will show our love and pride
in the life culture, we choose to reside.
© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.
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