The prompt we had today was to write about a small space. I took a liberty with the ode form by making an iambic pentameter and a,b,a,b/c,d,c,d etc. rhyme scheme verse to write an ode to a junk drawer. Ahem!
Oh you should have another name than that
Tradition gives to spaces used like you.
The term we have is harsh and it falls flat
Of all the praise, in fact, that is your due.
When notes and letters mess and crowd the scene,
a single paper clip alone you’ll hold.
The clutter and disorder you help clean.
You make us more effective, truth be told.
And how about we need a stamp or dime
or glue or ruler, tape, pencil or pen?
You come to rescue my kind every time.
You are a true lifesaver, rock–a friend.
You hold receipts and torn dry cleaner stubs,
abandoned gum, shoelaces–blacks or browns–
the jack of hearts, the ace and three of clubs,
a scissors, tape dispenser, stamps of clowns.
Your store of bits and pieces, so it seems,
is endless in its bounty–size and scope.
You store what’s needed, all the stuff of dreams.
You are a constant, calming source of hope.
When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,
Look in the glass and tell the face thou viewest,
(A woman’s face with Nature’s own hand painted)
“My glass shall not persuade me I am old
As an unperfect actor on the stage.
Full many a glorious morning I have seen–
I never saw that you did painting need!
O never say I was false of heart.
No! Time, you shall not boast that I do change.”
Shakespeare, William. “Sonnet “II,” “III,” “ XX,” “XXII,” “XXIII,” “XXXIII,” “LXXXIII,” “CIX”, “CXXIII.” Shakespeare’s Poems. Ed.George Wyndham. New York: Thomas Y. Crowell and Company, nd. 115, 116, 124, 125, 126, 131, 156, 169, 176. Print.