My Ode to Otter Pops.

You concentrated tube of sugary-ness,

You sweet relic of childhood's summers,

Sugar-high cohort, who canst thus express

How many naps were missed in your favor;

What belov'd friends haunt about the freezer?

Of Louie-Bloo or Short Kook, or of both,

With Poncho or the Little Orphan Orange?
What magic, mythical otters are these? 
What joy they bring? What pleasure to each them?
What smiles and grins? What wild ecstasy?

Yes, I totally stole "Ode to a Grecian Urn." And yes, I was bored. And yes, I've been eating a bunch of Otter Pops.
They're an essential ingredient of summer. It has been since I was a kid. My uncle would come up to the cabin, and he always made sure we had some Otter Pops in the freezer. He also made sure we got an extra one when our parents weren't looking.
Now, I have to have Otter Pops every summer. I had them in high school. I gave them out during recruitment; that made me a little more popular during those dreadful days. I bought them as soon as they were out in the grocery store this year. C and I killed a box during finals.

Otter pops are simply perfect.
Except for the orange and green ones. Those are gross.

To leave you with some of the Ode's original content, this is my favorite Keats quote.

"Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone..."