Lunch with Plato

The Philosopher waxed his way.

A howling lamentation, day-to-day.

Musty vellum and rolled parchment,

Built a fortress around a life misspent.

But what could Philosopher do?

Sages, mystics, and thinkers, far removed,

Must guide Him through Life and through Truth.

With Wisdom they speak; they speak to say sooth.

Philosopher opened his mail,

Invited, he was, to billow his sails,

A dance with his lady, not two days yet,

“Dear, I’ve lunch with Plato, to my regret.”

© CGT, 2017.

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