One hundred words

The ‘Varsity of the Third Age, want a hundred words upon a page,

To form a story or a poem: - work that’s to be done at hoem.

Back to school my mind regresses, rememb’ring English misteresses. “Pentaic tetrameter boy,” they cry.

I set to work with heartfelt sigh, scribbling busily so that I’m not noticed.

Wondering the while what this is for, until the bell that ends this schoolboy form of hell.

The dream goes on, until at last Calliope approaches fast.

Then I awake with joyous shout and start to write... just as my hundred words run out!

----OOOO----