Faithful Servant

What would life be without your daily aid,

your help to open every door for me?

Would I be standing in one place afraid

or turning round the other way to flee?

I know you’re always there. I can depend

on you to do your part and meet my need,

to make it possible my way to wend

from here to there with nothing to impede.

If time and toil should take its toll on you,

you never hear the cheers and chants of fame

that some amenities seem to accrue,

remember I will always praise your name.

The world assigns each thing a certain job,

and none are diligent as you, doorknob.

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Pantygynt said if Keats can write an ode to a Grecian urn, why not this sonnet.

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