Monday, January 18, 2016

Ode to the One who Filled the Pop Machine

It's A. A. Milne's birthday today. Though this isn't up to his caliber, I share with you a silly little poem I wrote last year. I penned it on behalf of the teens of our co-op who had been sad that the church's soda machine ("pop" in Idaho) had the labels on the buttons all wrong and then became empty for weeks. It made my fellow co-op teachers and the teens laugh, and hopefully made the person who fixed up the machine smile. We were indeed grateful!

Ode to the One who Filled the Pop Machine
Emily Woodham

Lonely it stood,
Aglow and yet empty.
The sorrow, the pain,
It once had plenty.

A façade of light,
It waits with longing,
More than facile sentiment,
For belonging.

Are all blind?
So unkind, they pass by.
Languishing hopes unseen,
as sigh meets endless sigh.

Then, at last, a hero
With eyes to see the void.
No mere wistful words,
But love and action alloyed.

T'was shadow and chaos;
Now, substance complete.
Fulfilled purpose,
And no more defeat.

Love, joy, e'er happiness;
Superb, no longer a mean.
Thank you, thank you,
to the one who filled the pop machine.

© 2015 Emily Woodham

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