". . . little shall I grace my cause

In speaking for myself. Yet, by your gracious patience,

I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver . . ."

(William Shakespeare's Othello, I.iii.88-90)

Monday, September 9, 2019

An Ode

Back in March, my son wrote a poem for his freshman English class. It was a summary, in verse, of Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird. You can read it here.

Last week, he wrote another poem for English class. The assignment this time was to write an ode. I would have predicted an ode to dogs, or video games, or ice cream, but instead, he wrote an ode to odes. His English teacher thought he did a very good job. I think so, too.

An Ode to Odes

Oh, how I love the odes!
Blessings you bring to all you speak of.
Oh, how you tickle the senses!
In your words I hear glorification
To that of which you speak.

An ode to popsicles, a sweet
Taste to my tongue.

An ode to the viola, a
Lullaby to my ears.

An ode to red hair, long, flowing
And beautiful to my eyes.

An ode to water, washing past
My fingers.

An ode to spices, a wonderful
Aroma from the Caribbean.

Odes, odes, never ending odes,
Thousands, millions, infinite words
Brought to life by the writer's quill.

Wonders you bring, eternal words, like
Eagles that soar full of that wonder.

An ode to odes.

By Evan Magness