In whispered words of ancient grace,
She carves the tales of strength and place,
A tapestry of voices bold,
The stories of the young and old.

Her pen, a beacon in the night,
Illuminates the silent fight,
Of women past and those to come,
In verses deep, their voices hum.

With every line, a world unfolds,
Of dreams and hopes, of tales retold,
A mirror to the heart’s desire,
In her words, we find the fire.

Duffy’s tales, a timeless art,
Unite the voices, heart to heart,
In feminism’s gentle frame,
Her poetry, a steadfast flame.