For this poem, I thought it would be fun and strangely appropriate to have the cabbage merchant write an overly passionate and reverential ode to his favorite (and most cursed) vegetable. In doing so, I wrote an ode to cabbage after John Keats' "Ode on a Grecian Urn". Mine is nowhere near as long, but the rhyme scheme is the same, and I feel there is a similar gravity to the tone too. Of course, the object of said ode makes this poem more than a little ridiculous.
~after John Keats' 'Ode on a Grecian Urn'~
Oh! You laureate of leafy wing,
xylem-lined crown your crispened globe
swathing like walls clothe our dear Ba Sing
Se, though yours the greener robe.
Blessed, your dressings' velvet and snap,
praised when placed 'twixt tooth and tongue,
when left unmet, the arrowed storm
whose bent has seen your glory flung
on mishap after windswept hap,
left for weather and slug to deform.
Cabbage, the curse your verdant crown
repeatedly casting from cart to earth,
what divine will trails you town by town
and spurs disaster toward the worth
enveloped in your glossy folds?-
now, as ere, a tatter-wrapped king
usurped by element-handed savages.
Why hates the avatar such a heavenly thing?
And what monstrous author pins your gold
to the fringe of terror's airbent– MY CABBAGES!