A blissfully quiet working day on the Arts reception desk (thanks be for university holidays) gave rise to this piece of arrant nonsense, herewith shared for your amusement with apologies to William Wordsworth's The Solitary Reaper:
The Solitary Student
Behold her, single at her desk,
Yon solitary student for a PhD!
Writing and weeping by herself,
Stop here, or quickly flee!
Alone she sits to tax her brain,
And sings a melancholy strain;
O listen! for the halls profound
Are overflowing with the sound.
Will no one tell me what she sings?
Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow
For old, forgotten, far-off things
And drama long ago:
Or is it some more humble lay,
Target word count not met today?
Article rejected? Feedback causing pain?
University computer just died (again)?
Whate'er the theme, the Maiden sang
As if her thesis had no ending,
I saw her groaning at her work,
And o'er the keyboard bending;
I listened, motionless and in thrall;
And, as I tiptoed down the hall,
The keyboard tapping continued still
Sapping mind and heart and will!
