odes upon odes

I read Neruda's Ode to My Socks this morning to my son as he slurped his cream of wheat.  He preferred Ode to a Black Panther (his favorite animal), but in the former poem instead of socks I thought of my kids. How that impulse to put them in a golden cage and feed them melon brought me to tears the other day when talking to the girl.
She was insisting her going with a group of kids driving out to Red Rock to hike was a fine idea I should embrace.  A random 16 year old boy driving, are you kidding me, nah. nope, noway. She sighed, annoyed, "mom, you are judging this kid based on the boys you knew!" uh, yup. "mom, how am i supposed to make new friends if you won't let me go?" uh, there's other ways. (insert the ole it isn't my rule char, it is the lord's rule) and so on the conversation went until i just looked in her big big eyes and slightly sobbed, "you are my pearl of great price, my prize lovie, my one girl i am to protect. i would keep you in a closet and feed you crackers if i could." she looked at me as if i was crazy for crying, "fine, i just won't go." she left the room.

...
I resisted the mad impulse to put him (them)
in a golden cage and each day give him (them)
birdseed and pieces of pink melon.
Like explorers in the jungle
who hand over the very rare green deer
to the spit and eat it with remorse,
...
The moral of my ode is this:
beauty is twice beauty
and what is good is doubly good
...

or in my case quadruple good. this new boy is the companion of joy. i dare say that he is obsessed with me, but he is. no one compares in his mind to his mom. that is worth caging, for sure.