“The aggregate of qualities, as valour and virtue, making up good character; a Greek name meaning beauty or excellence”
The men of Greece swooned for her,
Brandishing swords in of her honour,
Winning wars in her name,
Proclaiming their dying affection for her.
They all wanted a taste of her raspberry lips,
To wrap their hands in amongst her sun-kissed curls,
To press against her supple bosom, and
Take her innocence and virtue.
Yet, Arete cared not for these showmen.
Her interest was in books,
In the world beyond the walls.
She dreamed to explore,
Not to become laden with child,
Much to her father’s distaste.