I had to write an 8,000-word paper on William Blake by Jan 5. On the evening of Dec. 29, one week before due-date, our professor sent out an email postponing the due date by a week.
I should be jumping joy with glee
But feel the air’s knocked out of me;
My heart’s a flutter, knees are weak,
I don’t know where the peace to seek.
What pressure kept me on the straight,
Is gone for he has said ‘Oh wait—
You have one extra week to stew
Before that thing on Blake is due.’
* * * * * * * *
The Postponed Deadline
The research was done, I was all set to write
And I knew I’d be doing this all through the night.
I’d told all the kids to make do on their own,
From me they’d not get even one chicken bone.
Then I heard a ding!
How that ding made me sing!
I looked and I saw: ‘Roston’s sent you a note.’
That ominous deadline is now more remote.
He’s relented a bit and the weeks now are two
Until that ol’ paper on Blake will be due.
(With apologies to Dr. Seuss)