Ode to Classical Poetry

(Pindaric Verse)

Poetry feeds the senses
Of the body and soul,
Clothing the mind with verses;

Raining on body and soul to connect,
Like a flamingo taking time to pick,
From each verse, rhythm and subject;
Chewing poetry like an addict;

With beaks like quills
Of granite, flint and stone;
In jaws clinching, 
Then opening to unwind,
And lips transmiting 
Crafted words, into the heart and the mind;
Flinging words like flying feathers; 
With riddled sensuous thrills entwined,
In plots sizzling
On each succulent slice of every kind;
Our poetry ancestors have left behind;
Now free verse poets do massacre;
Poetic diction, mood and character;
Oh give me poetry to make me grow;
On those metered verses that really flow.

©Paterika Hengreaves
July 24, 2005/Barbados