To A Sylvan Soldier

(a) What particular line really resonated with you?

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter: therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
A beautiful image written to perfection in my mind's eye!

(b)How did the poet's style influence your own?

The poet's lovely mental images encouraged me to try to imitate his usage of flowery detail in my writing.

(c)What is the connection between the poet's poem and your own?
I attempted to write to an inanimate object giving it a persona and characteristics of a person. Keats seemed to be having a one-sided discussion with an urn, taunting its qualities and observing its beauty. His references to nature inspired me to look around me for an example of nature with which I could relate observations of today.


My attempt: (inspired by Ode on a Grecian Urn)

Tall sentinel guarding the solitude
Staunchly standing at full attention,
As you steadfastly watch and wait for His return
Boughs outstretched as the Savior’s arms
On Calvary where He gave His precious life.
You have seen many changes on your watch
Experiencing only the wind, the sun, and the rain
Pelting your limbs since you sprang forth
From the sod of this earth. Though much has passed you
You still are doomed only to observe!

Observations of a society in its waning
Which, burgeoned with political views,
Becomes ineffective and decadent.
Self-indulgence and immorality
Are swallowing the innocence that you
Once surveyed in this land.
An innocence that now has become lost.
Where are the statesmen of yore?
Where are the morals of a nation?
What price greed? We are learning!

There were happier days in our land.
Days before terror walked our streets;
Days unfettered with the deafening hum
Of dissension; days when parents parented,
Preachers preached, and governments governed,
Respected and truly concerned with its citizens
Who respected them in turn—governments
Unbound by the chains of “Do as I say and not
As I do” attitudes; governments that did not seek
Personal remuneration in return for their vote.

You are witnessing our downfall, O great sentry!
Visages of a country’s patriotism have passed underneath
Your limbs. Now there are mirages of the same
But only a few and the brave march honestly
To this fading beat, giving homage to the patriots of
Past days. We have traded God and country for
Pagan idols and financial gains, losing our virtuousness
In the process. The wisps of “mom and apple pie”
Have blended into the smog of corruption.

Great guardian of our land, would that you could pour
Out your stoic nature onto our illness, showing
Your example of solidarity and commonality
To your human brethren. Alas, you cannot!
You continue to stand at the edge of our demise
Waiting, and watching for His return,
Steadfastly experiencing life as you know it,
Never moving, never faltering, never bending.
Never changing, until He comes to take His children home.
Again, you are doomed only to observe.