O Sappho, prophet of the page
To whom the Greeks devote their age
Humbly true in gentle words
Full of spirit, passion stirred
Poetess, in mind embeds
A fulsome flame of luscious red

On glistening isle, on ******' shores
Sappho ruminates, adores
Rendering the usual world
In to magic truth unfurled
Written cross the sky in stars
Sung in time to ancient lyres

Her descant rings in metaphors
The earliest of troubadors
Enamoured of the wise, sublime
Conveyed in verse that transcends time
A most dutiful and diligent scribe
Gifting us, the reading tribe

Her vision ascends to immortal throne
Throughout time it sparkled, shone
Inspiring the future sages
To lust for verse and give up wages
To be a poet, that's her bliss
To see the sunshine as a kiss