Poem

Buzz

Class begins with droopy eyes
Dreary skies
A premonition of bleak surprise--
A day like the one before

Words etched in bold chalk letter
Tighten the fetter
Students, uncaring as a crotchety old debtor--
Yawn and feign interest for life

The lecture sets forth with little preamble
An angst-dashed scramble
But one spark catches like wildfire to a bramble--
She raises her head from the desk

Terms that mean nothing begin to ignite
Molten and bright
Phrases smolder, flash like a floodlight--
Peppery heat fills her chest

Fingers extend from an aching fist
 A bewildering twist
Torches blazing through the frosty mist--
Passion beckoned forth from the soul

Cached away in a drab, dusty room
Knowledge heirloom
Hidden from her world by a festering gloom--
Urges her on through the fog

Erudition in a dose like a drug
Goading tug
Heart thundering like current in an active spark plug--
She wrenches her calling from the chalk

Students snore through the lesson then leave
Ever naive
But she hangs suspended without reprieve--
She has found the ultimate raison d’être

Interest piqued like never before,
Spiral and soar! ; 
One concept that brings her potential ashore--
A buzz she will chase for the rest of her life

2 thoughts on “Buzz”

  1. Although I am certain there were some throughout my career, I’d like to think that most students did not view my class in the same light as your poem depicted the instructor. I remember, however, as a student
    many years ago, sometimes feeling so totally bored that I wondered why anyone would ever choose such a profession! I can truthfully say that it served me well for 40 years and I hope, in a small way, I dignified my calling and offered insight, knowledge, and a dose of daily humor that helped the class period seem less a burden.

    Liked by 1 person

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