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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 lyricist 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 brings critical storm. No shame now, we will show our love and pride in the life culture, we choose to reside. ©JG Farmer 2008
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Jan 29, 2019
Jan 29, 2019 at 11:25 AM UTC
Island Lady
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 lyricist 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 brings critical storm. No shame now, we will show our love and pride in the life culture, we choose to reside. ©JG Farmer 2008
Form: English Sonnet
Written by
Jan 29, 2019
Jan 29, 2019 at 11:25 AM UTC
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