Circadian 1

Old Merlot, the subject of this fantasy,

He sat at his desk, looking ‘round angrily,

Asleep were the rascals - they just didn’t care, 

The sound of snoring was filling the air,

Merlot couldn’t reach them, although he had tried,

To pass on the knowledge that would be their guide,

In days that would come in their future ahead,

“Excuse me,” he barked, “This is not time for bed,

You have to wake up, pay attention you will,

To lesson assigned,” rascals all remained still,

And kept their eyes shut - they were all quite bored,

The facts and the figures were getting ignored.

Frustrated, Merlot jumped right out of his chair,

Red-faced, out of breath, he pulled out some hair,

He waited a moment, he let out a screech,

The rascals awoke, “Hey, what up there, teach,”

They all said at once. “Is it time for recess?

Your method of teaching is giving us stress,

We need to get out and burn it all off,

A break from this classroom we now would love.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” responded Merlot,

“You’ve slept through the class, now you’re ready to go, 

To play outside… not a chance, not today,

Repeat after me - I will not go astray,

And fall to the clutches of horrible beast,

That lurks in the forest of polyps… At least,

Pretend like it matters to you what I preach,”

“We’re doing the best that we can here, teach,

But you keep on saying the same blasted thing,

And we are so tired of your lecturing,”

The rascals cried out - they were so annoyed,

Additional schooling they hoped to avoid.

But Merlot refused to give in to their pleas,

He pulled out a ruler and made rascals freeze,

By striking his desk, making deafening whack,

And scratching his nails on board that was black.

“Ok then,” he said, satisfied with effect,

He gazed at the ruler that now was wrecked,

He tossed it aside and said: “Now, we’ll go on,

But hear this warning - first rascal to yawn,

Will stay after class and do chore after chore,

They’ll wash every wall, clean the chairs, mop the floor,

They’ll climb up the ladder and paint ceiling too,

A rascal alone doing work of a crew.”

He uttered those words and he sat at his desk,

He put on some specks, they were thick and grotesque,

His eyes magnified pierced the room once again,

“The beast is horrific, he’d do all he can,

To eat your insides, what a grim end it’d be, 

In forest of polyps… Good… listen to me,

My sweet little darlings, you all should be scared…”

He gasped for some air, straight ahead he then stared,

His eyes bulged right out, his specks ran some cracks,

The buildup’s completed, it’s time for climax,

In rear of the class, little Stemma sat still,

She looked out of window, not much of a thrill,

Her schooling experience gave her at time…

The bell of the recess cut in with a chime,

So lively it was, causing rascals to jump,

“Remember, the beast likes the ones that are plump,

In forest of polyps he’s waiting for you!”

The rascals responded with squiggly “Eww!!!” 

Enough was enough, they could take it no more,

And just like the dickens, they ran for the door,

The teacher proclaimed, “So then be it, ok,

But one of you isn’t quite done for the day,

I see little scamp who will take all the blame,

Her mind likes to wonder, and Stemma’s her name.”

“My teacher,” protested my favorite miss,

“I’ve been super good, and I don’t deserve this,

I’ve listened to you, every word that you’ve said,

I can’t miss recess, I just need it real bad.”

“I gave you a chance,” corresponded Merlot

Now here you’ll stay, and nowhere you’ll go,

The bucket is yours, say hello to the sponge,

Wipes come in a box, go ahead, grab a bunch,

Please put on some gloves and commence with the board,

The state of its surface should not be ignored,”

“Oh this is unfair,” Stemma whined in response,

“I looked outta window, I swear, only once,

A magical creature I saw out there,

With clothes full of sparkles and crystalline hair,

She smiled, she waived, and she gave me a wink,

And then she was gone, right before I could blink,

She faded away like a summery dream,”

“Enough with the yapping, your task is to clean,

Your head’s full of nonsense, and that just ain’t right,

Like going to forest of polyps at night,

There’re horrors in there you’d never think of,

The blackboard is waiting, let’s show it some love.”

Such was the demand - little Stemma complied,

Ahead to the board she walked up teary-eyed,

She gave it a wipe, and the board formed a crack,

It grew into crevice, the rascal stepped back,

“There’s something behind it,” she said to Merlot,

“Go on, take a peek…” Stemma whispered: “Hell no,”

And turned right around, to exit she dashed,

The crevice split open, a row of teeth flashed,

Gargantuan mouth revealed from within,

It stretched itself wide, and a blood curdling scream,

Was one piercing sound that sliced through the air,

The belch gurgled next… Empty space, not a hair,

Was left on the spot where Stemma had stood,    

So young and so precious, yet swallowed for food,

The teacher remarked, as he picked at his thumb,

“Consumed by the system this youngling’s become,”

She could’ve been special… exceptional one,

We’ve barely met her, so why is she gone?