Glancing up as you began speaking
I was struck by the tone of your voice
The words, certainly, held conviction
It was clear you spoke by choice
Your eyes held a passionate fire
For the subject of which you spoke
Transfixed and transpired, I felt
The mood you tried to evoke
Coughs and sudden shifts of boredom
Interrupted your speech to the class
But steadily you maintained your course
With only one sip from your water glass
When it was done, we were dismissed
But I, entranced, remained
Watching you gather your scholar’s things
My admiration for you unfeigned
You glanced at me as you left the room
I smiled and nodded my head
Hoping you’d understand the words
That between us continue unsaid.
I never forgot your lecture, sir.
As I followed in the path you chose
Like you, I became a teacher,
Of eighteenth century poetry and prose.