ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

Ode to my Left Little Toe

Stephen Whiteside 08.11.2012

Now, my head gets recognition - be it worse, or be it better;
Likewise, too, my torso is acknowledged to the letter;
My arms hang from my shoulders, and they're very plain to see,
So, too, my legs, though shapeless, like twin trunks of gnarly tree.

My hands poke from my shirt sleeves, and they're always on display,
But my feet, secure in leather shoes, are hidden well away.
Yet, though the world can't see my feet, they're quite well known to me,
And I acknowledge all the work they do, respectfully.

My heels are hale and hearty, and they bear a heavy load.
My toes provide my balance as I saunter down the road.
My big toes do the bulk of it, but all my toes have roles.
(I must make mention also of my midfoot, arch and soles.)

I'm right side dominant, and so, my right leg leads the way.
My left leg always follows, as the night-time follows day.
My big toe's most important, and my little toe is least,
So my little toe, left sided, is a half forgotten beast.

Yet all of me is precious, which is why I write this song,
And if you thought I didn't care about it, you'd be wrong.
Imagine, if you please, a line from left foot to right ear,
And all that lies along it is most valuable and dear.

My left little toe,
My left little toe,
How would I travel, then? How would I go
Through puddles on pavements, through deserts, through snow,
Without my left little toe?

I love all ten toes as they stand in a row,
Together, they put on a pretty pink show,
They carry me high, and they carry me low,
Support me in places I don't want to go.
Not one of them is your average Joe,
But as valued as any, I want you to know,
Is my left little,
Left little...

Toe.

Slow day today Doc????

Actually I get it - people don't appreciate how important those little stumpy outside toes are for your balance when walking

Good fun Stephen

Cheers

Maureen

Yes, and yes.

Thanks, Maureen.

I suppose a toe is every bit worthy of an ode as any nightingale,grecian urn or west wind. Judith Wright wrote an ode called Australia 1970. A very tough piece on environmental issues.

I suppose I could write an ode to the grecian urn that landed on my toe.

I spurn, I spurn yon grecian urn
That landeth on my toe.
It doth deserve to crash and burn.
I'll tell it where to go.

I'll tell it to remove itself,
And rise from whence it came,
Beside that little dish of delf.
It wasn't made to maim.

My toe's my valued little mate.
It cannot bear such load,
So to the urn I dedicate
This heart-felt ANTI-ode!