By Ashley Lister

The ode is one of my favourite
styles of poetry, partly because it can take whatever form the poet decides. Traditionally
the ode is written in praise of something. 
One of the most famous odes in poetry, Keats’s ‘Ode to Autumn’, begins
with the following lines:

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,

Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;

Conspiring with him how to load and bless

With fruit the vines that
round the thatch-eaves run;

I could go into a pretentious
poet mode here, discuss the fact that this is written in iambic pentameter and
mention the a-b-a-b rhyme scheme in these opening four lines.

But, really, there’s no hard
and fast rhyme scheme for the ode. And there’s no definite metre. And, rather
than discuss immaterial points of poetry, instead I’d prefer to dwell on the
obvious reverence Keats is bestowing on his beloved season of autumn.

Note the affectionate language
used in this piece. In the first two lines we have:




This is the language of
someone who adores autumn. This is the work of someone who has used the concept
of the ode to fully lavish praise on what he perceives as the most deserving of

I’m discussing the ode this
month because I think it’s singly the most appropriate form of poetry for erotica.
It somehow feels right to lavish ode-worthy praise on an erotic partner or some
aspect of eroticism because they’re deserving of such high esteem.

Elevated language is no longer
a necessary requirement of this type of poem. All that’s needed is the desire
to write with adoration about something that deserves praise. Below is my
humble attempt.

Broad and boundless round backside

Cheeky cheeks just made to twerk

Built to bounce and buck and slide

Help me put your ass to work.

As always, I look forward to
reading any contributions that appear in the comments box this month.