To the Lesbian
Alas, I'm lost again in my own verse: "Nihilistic world I live in my days And in my nights my eyes see blinding rays" Over me perhaps was this long spelt curse. But, yet since I discovered the Tenth Muse, Read her broken lines of tenderly love: In winds of poesy she flew like a dove For Fires of passion her art was the fuse: I sang an elegy to my own past And learnt new techniques of a new device; Sappho, the one who has gracefully cast Entwining with her li'l fingers this dice Called "lyrical poesy" that grew up to last And has on this Earth no equal in price. Siddartha Pamulaparty Jan 21 2007.