From the talented, creative, poetic mind of my maid of honor:
Ode to Grading
Like a thunder cloud pierces the heart of a sunny day,
my Fall Break is marred by the journals I slay.
Here and there, scattered on my classroom floor,
the papers are the carnage of my waging war
on grammar and literature and things of that sort,
things my kids think are of no import.
My rallying cries of "Steinbeck!" and "Douglass!"
are answered by shouts of "We couldn't care less!"
Now, the kids and their drama are nowhere near school,
but their papers and projects make me feel like a fool
to be here grading while Dawn is in Cabo...
I'd have to get married to go there like her though.
So perhaps I'm not a fool after all,
even though I've lost my break in the Fall.
One class set of journals is almost finished,
but my entire grading pile is hardly diminished.
I may bring it all to Champaign for the wedding,
(not mine, of course) and use it as bedding.
But as uncomfortable as grading might be,
I'm sure that would keep me from sleeping soundly.
So here it sit and listen to my iPod way loud,
and having the new Beck album makes me feel proud.
At least I've got good music and sounds
even though the grading still abounds.