Your voice rises from the sea’s blue throat, Sappho—
lyre strings trembling where the white waves break, Sappho.
Girls danced beneath the moon’s pale breast on Lesbos,
their laughter sweeter than the honeyed wine, Sappho.
You sang desire sharp as myrtle leaves in summer,
a fire no husband’s law could ever tame, Sappho.
Time tears your poems into scattered petals—
yet every burning line still calls your name, Sappho.
O priestess of the kiss that dares not speak in daylight,
your island still remembers what you claimed, Sappho.
I read your fragments under midnight’s quiet lamp—
and feel your heartbeat quicken in my veins, Sappho.
Though centuries grind your marble into silence,
the ache you named remains forever flame, Sappho.
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Author:
Matthew R. Callies (
Offline) - Published: June 13th, 2026 00:26
- Comment from author about the poem: Poem 13 for Pride Month. This poem is inspired by Sappho, a Greek poet from the island of Lesbos who is responsible for the modern use of the word "lesbian". For more context visit https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sappho
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- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Tristan Robert Lange
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Comments2
Relying on classical legend and myth this poem is well set in Greek culture and history with great flow it is a fave
Matthew, this is one heck of a poem. What struck me most is the affection and reverence running through it...not as history, but as connection. The imagery is rich throughout, and that sense of an enduring flame surviving the centuries lingers long after the final line. Excellent write, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
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