In accordance with tradition
And the laws of elocution
I have metered here and rhymed some ruminations—
About the goals that you’ve achieved
And all the little ways you’ve peeved
Me, so get ready for some grim illuminations.
As I faced the class last autumn
It seemed I was at the bottom
Of an overgrown and steep and stony trail;
And though I hiked with gut and gumption,
When we made the spring produmption
Mr. Kirby wore a business ponytail.
This year I laid heavý emphásis
That to keep the pick-ups fast is
How to stop a play from crawling like a tortoise;
And you tried hard, though I should mention
That when our crowd seemed taut with tension
They were really stiff as boards from rigor mortis.
This was only the beginning
For a group whose daily sinning
Took forgiveness to an exponent of seven;
Could God have known, when He decreed,
“You must absolve the absenteed,”
about the 50-hour workweek of Jay McKinnin?
We built Our Town in just ten weeks
And if we peopled it with geeks—
Still, on opening night I felt it in my stomach:
Not ‘cause the wedding vows were magic
Or the graveyard lines were tragic
But because the curtain call was highly comic.
Now I’m left with wishing-well,
Though if by now you cannot tell
What I mean to say, you haven’t paid attention:
He who began His work in you,
In which I’ve helped, will see it through
And bear you on until the great day of completion.
Blessings and prayers,
And fond, fond regards,