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Introduction to Poetry, by Paul Lake

She comes in late, then settles like a sigh
On the first day, returning every week
Promptly at ten, each Monday Wednesday Friday,
To study Shakespeare, Jonson, Donne, and Blake;

Enters the room to an approving murmur,
Straightens her dress, then, brushing back her hair
Arches her body with the slightest tremor
And sits, while the room grows breathless, in her chair,

Sits for an hour, while busy sophmores worry
Each turgid line, a Botticellian smile
On her rapt face, wh o's learned who little study
Love involves; who, walking down the aisle,

Knows in her bones how little poetry
Words breathe, and how---on turning to go home---
All eyes will watch her rise above her "C"
And walk off, like a goddess on the foam.

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