Ode To Literature

‘Tis a wondrous bit of structure, Literature is indeed And from this, an insightful glimpse of culture Truly marvelous to read Lest we negate such writings, these we overlook Nay, treasure these works of fine penmanship These that have been structured by true finesse Every page of every book Is truly something of craftsmanship Certainly more, but never less Oh literature, how you’ve stood the test of time And many trials you have faced You have no preference, be it free verse or rhyme Every work is something of beauty, and not merely haste Ay, ‘tis exquisite writing I do sincerely cherish Writing that shall never decay For mankind is bound to cessation, this, not known to writing Man will see finality, but ideas shall never perish Truly, a notion to live by each day Words that are surely inciting Language lends inspiration to the mind This we transfer to paper by pen Such moving words one labors to find And this process, we repeat again But what is in literature that which we seek? Is it the sophisticated nature of such diction, That of probable bombast? Truly we have intentions both mild and meek For such articulated words are surely not that of dereliction Thus we discover a divine afflatus from edifying writings of the past