To the Lesbian

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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.

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