Homage to The Ode...

ChloeRose

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This forum is wonderful.....such talented, inspiring artists of the written word. I'm so pleased to have happened upon it and grateful to have the opportunity to participate in some way.

The posted threads with various poetic structures are such fun. I thought 'The Ode' might be as well. So, the Ode...they come in all shapes and sizes. Here's one done correctly:

“Ode on Solitude” by Alexander Pope

Sound sleep by night; study and ease,
Together mixed; sweet recreation;
And innocence, which most does please,
With meditation.

Thus let me live, unseen, unknown;
Thus unlamented let me die;
Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lie."

Here is your challenge, if you choose to accept it. Use the last line, or first, of the previous Ode to create your own. However long is up to you. But, in homage to the essence of a Ode, please lament. Humorously always an option. I'll begin, however modest my efforts;

Ode to Sleep

Sound sleep by night; study and ease,
if only that warm glass of milk,
or sliced piece of toast, got some zzzzz.
Nothing, nada, not sheets made of silk.

The blue screen, text, simply email?
Spicy food, work stress, or my spouse?
News never stops, all systems fail,
I'll get no sleep, it seems, in my own house.

My teenager sleeps ten hours.
And whatever happened to me?
Just why old age make you sour,
So, now it's goodbye to sleep, I’ll go pee.

Your turn.....



My prior Ode to the Holidays
Oh tannenbaum, thou did me no good
Baubles, sparkle, and magic, a ruse
Emptied my pockets, spent more than I should
Only to sing the ‘credit card blues’

If only that were your one cruel trick
But my wasteline attests to the fact
“A few” cookies and I look like St. Nick
My shocked scale is completely gobsmacked

Oh tannenbaum, such a cruel lover
Your beauty entices and tosses asunder,
Ardent admirers are left to discover
Losses and gains from a ‘season of wonder’.

Until next year……..
 
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ChloeRose

Taking the long view.
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Another Ode for inspiration:

This Ode is from For the Fallen, a poem by the English poet and writer Laurence Binyon. Commemorative of the Great War published 1914.

"They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them."