Within tall walls that separate we two,

From dalliance that titillates and so,

We languish morose as we search to find,

Solutions that seem to fit our mind.

I wonder what to make of this,

When alone within these lonely walls I sit.

And ponder what our future holds,

Am I too crass, perhaps too bold?

Is this the reason that you scold?

Though I persist, you still demur,

Sometimes I feel just like a cur.

I hope that this is just a stage,

A test of skill which we engage,

To prepare us for both book and page.

Michael Taylor©