Poetry Month: Ode to the Adverb

In response to Grammar Girl's call for poems on the subject of grammar, I whipped up this little ditty on the adverb, and I won!

Ode to the Adverb

Some say that you are dying slowly

Your suffix spurned like something lowly;

My lover tells me to drive safe—

Her words, my grammar sense do chafe.

Whence went thee my lovely –ly?

I write so freely, but I feel free.

Slyly, wryly, skillfully Thou

Are used by knowledgeable writers now;

But woefully, awfully, even sadly

Your demise makes me feel bad (not badly).