Ode to a Remote Control

In the quiet realm of evening's hush,

Where twilight meets the TV's blush,

There lies a tool, oft overlooked,

Its power vast, its secrets booked.

Oh humble guardian of our leisure,

In your buttons lie the treasure,

Of worlds beyond our grasp and view,

You bring them close, as if on cue.

From couch's depth, we seek your form,

To change the scene, to transform,

From drama's tears to laughter's spree,

You command the airwaves, set them free.

In your infrared, no secrets hide,

No channel barred, no show denied,

With stealth you dance on frequencies,

O'er cables, satellites, and streaming seas.

With each press, a wish you grant,

A change, a pause, a slant.

We marvel not, we often forget,

The magic in your silhouette.

When lost beneath a cushion's crease,

Our hearts do skip, our worries increase,

Yet once retrieved, all's right again,

Our trusted friend, our dear amen.

You've made us kings and queens of lore,

From our thrones, the world we explore.

No more the days of manual change,

Thanks to you, all's in our range.

Remote Control, in your small frame,

Lies the essence, the very flame,

Of modern life, its joys and thrills,

You are the bridge, the cure for stills.

So here's to you, with deep elation,

For bringing worlds to our location.

Tiny commander, in your hold,

Is a universe, vast and bold.