The ode is possibly the oldest form of poetry. Its sole purpose is to celebrate something or someone.
Years ago while working at a South Florida newspaper, my friend Donna, also a coworker and I were opining about snacks. To make her laugh, I composed a little ditty I called, “Ode to a chip.”
That was well over 20 years ago. I do not remember the words to that poem. But in honor of National Poetry Month, I have composed another. Warning: you won’t be able to read it just once! Enjoy!
Day Five
Ode to a Chip
golden and crisp, salt
stains your fingers
she is much maligned,
with talk
of betrayal! Bad for you.
But for you she is
a beauty unlike any
other she snaps and
crackles when pushed and
teases with greasy fingerprints
and when you can take
it no more, she yields
crunch, crunch, crunch! And
then she is
gone. Lost forever until
nimbly, fingers search
the bag for another.
Sherri Winston 
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