So this Lady-of-Themes infused with Beat,
Whose Soft-Flamed Hands smoothen the Letter's Edge,
Whose Process define what Matters on Heat -
Like Ripe Seeds scattered take Root on the Ledge
Then enrich such Themes my Country indeed
Which plomb this Moment I can take to Pride:
Another Beauty marked Genious-of-East
And Future the Written Maiden abide
If Blessings - un-poped - then endowed onto her
For Utmost Talent was beyond belief
Still her Tongue the Innocent bid confer
To sand these Edges from Rough World's relief.
And by such Hands, let our Mothers invoke:
Youth indeed does Spell; And Spells out our Hope.