Sappho, I cannot hear your words
And I would not know your face
Oh! But to live in your world
Your words of love to embrace,
To sit at your feet in wonder
To trace the curves of your beautiful face.
The sculpturing of erogenous words
Cultivating sensations within the hand
To speak with reverence of the footprint
Of feminine-blood soaked into the land.
I see you with vivid colour; I am heady from
Sensual perfumes that linger down the stairs
The flowering of erotic life
The sweet seduction of civic lovers
Where women work and women care.
Your lips part with anticipating insight
And your honeydew voice reverberates
‘She has the power to seed her own wisdom’
And your arms open with a matriarch’s welcoming embrace.
Sappho! If ever I had heard you
Willfully I would have swooned to my muse
For believing not in your Lesbos devotion
Is desecration to the feminine rose.
Jane E Libeau
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