♡ 𝑯 𝑼 𝑩 𝑹 𝑰 𝑺 ♡
                  
                 ♡ 𝑯 𝑼 𝑩 𝑹 𝑰 𝑺  ♡ poetry stories
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maddie_hatter
maddie_hatter As lost as Alice, as mad as the hatter
Autoplay OFF   •   9 months ago
A free form poem dedicated to my crush.
Full of Greek mythology references because I’m a nerd who still believes in the ideal of courtly love 😂
How I wish I could be your Sappho, girl...


Thanks so much for reading and for supporting me so far! If you enjoyed this piece, give it a thumbs up and let me know your comments in the thoughts!


FAIR WARNING: this poem speaks about a girl’s love for another girl. I know there are people who don’t agree with that — it’s fine, as long as you’re not disrespectful about it. Just scroll past this piece.
No hate, homophobic, bi-erasure and similar comments will be tolerated. If you wish to express your opinion, even if it’s different from mine, do so in a civil manner. Otherwise, I will report you. Thanks for understanding!

© 2020 Grazia Testa All rights reserved.

Pen name: Alyssa O’Rowane
Commaful: @maddie_hatter
Wattpad: _MaddieHatter_
Instagram: alyssa_orowane

♡ 𝑯 𝑼 𝑩 𝑹 𝑰 𝑺 ♡

Aye, O' Muse, sing of my beloved.

Aye, O' Muse, sing of my beloved. For I was not born a poet, but her eyes graced me to be;

Aye, O' Muse, sing of my beloved. For I was not born a poet, but her eyes graced me to be; and I was not born a musician, but her voice lulls me to life;

Aye, O' Muse, sing of my beloved. For I was not born a poet, but her eyes graced me to be; and I was not born a musician, but her voice lulls me to life; and I was not born an artist, but her smile shapes me to praise.

Aye, O’ Aphrodite, hail my beloved.

Aye, O’ Aphrodite, hail my beloved. Isn't the dream of her a form of 𝘩𝘶𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘴?

Aye, O’ Aphrodite, hail my beloved. Isn't the dream of her a form of 𝘩𝘶𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘴? My heart flutters at the sole mention of her name,

Aye, O’ Aphrodite, hail my beloved. Isn't the dream of her a form of 𝘩𝘶𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘴? My heart flutters at the sole mention of her name, who gives the most lovely name to Love,

Aye, O’ Aphrodite, hail my beloved. Isn't the dream of her a form of 𝘩𝘶𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘴? My heart flutters at the sole mention of her name, who gives the most lovely name to Love, Love declared so blatantly against all odds and gods.

Aye, O’ Aphrodite, hail my beloved. Isn't the dream of her a form of 𝘩𝘶𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘴? My heart flutters at the sole mention of her name, who gives the most lovely name to Love, Love declared so blatantly against all odds and gods. Odds are, I'd petrify at the sole sight of her.

Aye, O' Fates, bless my beloved,

Aye, O' Fates, bless my beloved, as you weave the strings of a Love fated to stay unrequired.

Aye, O' Fates, bless my beloved, as you weave the strings of a Love fated to stay unrequired. She who in my heart fireworks of fine desire makes arise;

Aye, O' Fates, bless my beloved, as you weave the strings of a Love fated to stay unrequired. She who in my heart fireworks of fine desire makes arise; she who weaves the waves of my fate

Aye, O' Fates, bless my beloved, as you weave the strings of a Love fated to stay unrequired. She who in my heart fireworks of fine desire makes arise; she who weaves the waves of my fate like poems transposed to music.

Music,

Music, music mirrors the sight of her,

Music, music mirrors the sight of her, a mirror that is, but a glimpse in her soul.

Music, music mirrors the sight of her, a mirror that is, but a glimpse in her soul. A soul that echoes in my heart with the voice of an angel.

Music, music mirrors the sight of her, a mirror that is, but a glimpse in her soul. A soul that echoes in my heart with the voice of an angel. A voice that pulls at the heartstrings of my soul.

Music, music mirrors the sight of her, a mirror that is, but a glimpse in her soul. A soul that echoes in my heart with the voice of an angel. A voice that pulls at the heartstrings of my soul. An angel that pulls at the depths of my heart.

Aye, my beloved: mercy I beg at your feet!

Aye, my beloved: mercy I beg at your feet! Spare me and teach me how to breathe again;

Aye, my beloved: mercy I beg at your feet! Spare me and teach me how to breathe again; o' little poor me, how I wish I could kiss you under the soaking rain,

Aye, my beloved: mercy I beg at your feet! Spare me and teach me how to breathe again; o' little poor me, how I wish I could kiss you under the soaking rain, but just standing next to you has become a forlorn feat I can’t defeat!

© 2020 Grazia Testa All rights reserved. Pen name: Alyssa O’Rowane Commaful: @maddie_hatter Wattpad: _MaddieHatter_ Instagram: alyssa_orowane

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