Ode Poems | Ode Examples

Lingerie touch

Here's a romantic epic poem based on your description, in the specified style and poetic devices:

Amidst the urban sprawl of concrete and steel, Where towering skyscrapers cast long shadows real, We find ourselves drawn to the lake's gentle shore, A tranquil oasis from the city's frantic roar.

Our indulgence begins with first-class flights, Gazing out at

Words of My Ancestors

By moonlight when the moon shone with all her majesty, 
My ancestors told us the story of the Tiger,
Which crouched at every rumble of the jungle-thunder,
Either out of fright or from bravery;
Tiger, male and ferocious,
With wicked fangs,
Tiger which breathed fire upon the foliage that shielded
Our village from the rage of the sun,
Which raped lady antelopes

Laughter -For Lucille Ball

Laughter creased my face
With the wideness of joy in a darling
Hallooing loudly, Hawaii!
Making me younger with weakly wrinkles,
It warmed my heart with a flaming ring of mirth.
And I liked it.
I watched the waves as they rose and fell,
Like the big flattered locks of a comely
Landlady combing her tresses on a windy, snoopy 
Sunday morning.
And I

Love of Horror

Love of Horror

When shadows lengthen, and the moon hangs low,
My heart beats fast, a thrilling, eager glow.
For whispers chilling, and for blood-red gleam,
I find my comfort in a waking dream.
The creaking floorboards, the unearthly wail,
A twisted plot, a terror-filled tale.
No gentle rom-com, no drama's soft embrace,
But monsters lurking, leaving not a trace.
From classic slashers to

Ode to Autumn

How spectacular your crisp, cold colors,
Autumn dear, your bright & brilliant hues.

The fruition of success & failure, previous;
Culminated countenance of consequence.

Bold can be those leafy reflections from bud
To crown, the readiness to share the Fall.

It was your choice, Autumn dear, to steer
Toward perfection or depression, in trial.

Do you gather your bundle around your feet
Fretting and

Bamboo

Grant me rest under your lissome stems
Let me hide from the raindrops — shiny globules
That drip with tropical hauteur,
Rain that harms the ribs with cold rebukes.
Welcome me within your greenish lair, from
Your cane roots to your starry leaves —I insist on visiting
In your prime, so fresh with dew and so green, like
The envy in the

White Wilderness

I recall the yelling but silent voice of winter
that broken December when the lights from
lanterns shot up from their wicks with the
fading strength of departing glows abroad.

Twilights hastened through the spine of
receding days, halting the approach of a
wayward Christmas.
The wilderness around us yielded froths from a
puking snowstorm,
fastening laces of Hell with strings of abundant
sleet.

Ode to the Other Self

Though you're oblivious to the outside,  
You reside somewhere on the inside.
You're a part of me,  
I become a turbulent sea.  

You arise from the unknown,  
You shoot your arrows,  
And I bear the sorrows—  
These are not seeds I have sown.  

You hide in the stygian night,

And Then There Were None - For Agatha Christie

I’ve only desired to light old lamps with young wicks
(the tongues of flame must be blinking hard with vigilance)
Across dark, mildewed alcoves that smell of ink —her writing ink —
But one thing led to the other, and the ink I
Found froze in my eyes, the bottle instantly petrified among desert ruins.
I searched, from my village

To the War Veterans

Sirs, my hands are aloft in greetings
I salute you
My legs are together in attention
I hail you
My hat is off my head
I revere you
I thank you with the two greatest things I have:
My heart and my soul
Like the aggressor who lacked the edge to wear you down,
I lack the words to say thank you.
My heart and

Night Watch - For Rembrandt

The stars have descended a little lower, to keep us —
My kinsmen and I —company on this night watch
On a newly roused African night.
We filch a little bit of the effulgence of the waking moon,
Reluctant, with the invasion of jealous clouds, their plumes
Fragile with inconsistency.
We rely on the luminescence of each other’s eyes and the

Abbey Road

It looks to me like the iconic photo was shot on a Sunday
Behind an abbey that was soundless with loud prayers
The traffic was more human than mechanical
On the broad, asphalted spine of a skinned, dead zebra
Where four men created a useful, eye-catching scene
With their stern military march of youthful legs,
Coming together, yet drifting solemnly apart,
Each

Africa

Africa,
I reconcile your genius with nostalgia,
perfervidity and relic lust;

your age with the whiteness
of a virgin void of earliness;

and your life with the tenderness
of the yolk of God.

Where do you dwell?

Ode to the Sultan of Slights

You are a soligaster of the highest order, held in pristine favor by your court.  A wordsmith after Satan’s own heart. 

Champion of Doublespeak, a demonstrative firebrand with a MAGA-phone.  An artful dodger, complete with chaotic DOGE. 

Delusions more grandiose than Bonaparte, crowned King of Deception you be a celebrated charlatan who follies

Ode to the Sultan of Slights

You are a soligaster of the highest order, held in pristine favor by your court.  A wordsmith after Satan’s own heart. 

Champion of Doublespeak, a demonstrative firebrand with a MAGA-phone.  An artful dodger, complete with chaotic DOGE. 

Delusions more grandiose than Bonaparte, crowned King of Deception you be a celebrated charlatan who follies

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