Poetry, when we first met
(I was too young to read back then…)
Your gifts were gold, and mine the debt.
My childhood was enriched again
And I grew older, full of hope;
I was not yet a misanthrope.

You intimated truths divine
And so I followed in your ways.
Hypnotic flame, I made you mine
To guide me in my dull, dark, maze;
Deep in a cavern, unaware—
Until you led me out of there.

Your lyric beams, whose light is sure
Discerned my unpoetic state.
Shining from realms where thought is pure,
You gave me sight, unlocked the gate.
Some despise your ancient beauty—
Others heed your call of duty.

Loosed from the cave, in sunlit weather,
Freeing souls from those sad regions,
Muse of mine!  We fight together;
Mocking dullness, slaying legions.
You (and Plato) are owed the thanks.
Guide us rightly. Lead the ranks.