have you heard her speak
her voice as deeply defined
as a slender Celtic torque
about my bowed neck,
yet flowing and hopeful
as the touch of a child

no mere pearls of grace
from her moistened lips fall
yet the roughest stones
of truth lie firmly buried
beneath the hardened soles
of her once wandering feet

no shining baubles adorn
her words wisely entwined
woven with truthful care—
O Aphrodite be damned!
and her allure, for it is Athena
to whom I pledge my heart