An Ode to Odes.
Shall I sing the praises,
of those who’ve gone before;
the gentle souls who paved the way,
the world that they explored?
With tomes of love and sadness,
they composed a sonnet true;
writing of the life they lived
and the lives of those they knew.
Kings and fools they heralded,
in words of beauty rare;
describing all the history,
that we all together share.
Of lives beyond the darkened veil,
of Lady’s and of whores;
plays and songs of loves true nature,
on these and distant shores.
The world is just our canvas,
where we paint the colors hue;
love in reds and violets,
lives in greens and blues.
So dabble where you will my friends,
let the scenery draw you in;
and when the pictures finished,
set up and start again.
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