Poetry and Napping

Hi there! Aren't you looking well, I imagine. Well, those of you interested to hear of my sleeping habits should be pleased to know that I've taken the immediate course of action I do whenever embarking on a new enterprise and have looked up how to nap on the internet. I must say that what I had thought was going to be a rather minor interest turned out to be somewhat of a fad amongst the folks of the internet.

Well, I honestly don't think I've got anything to tell you today. I've been listening to a bit more Radiohead, doing some peculiar noises in drama, and we had a fire drill. That's about it really. I'll try to think of something more entertaining to write tomorrow.

In order not to leave you with nothing, I thought I'd give you this poem I wrote when my iPod broke about a year back. It's based on The Reaper and the Flowers by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Here it is:

A Short Lament for the Death of My iPod:

Through the golden eyes of memory,

I can see, though they’ve past,

The many songs you shared with me,

And the occasional podcast.

By pressing shuffle, I always thought,

You’d opportunity

To choose whatever songs you ought,

But you chose those best for me.

And we undertook great piracy,

Upon vast Internet seas,

‘Til stolen songs were the majority

Of your MP3s.

But I was careless with your case,

For a crack sprung on the screen.

That showed where recklessness was based

Where once had friendship been.

And though I’ll go and buy another,

I’ll offer you this prayer,

Because to me you were like a brother,

Or, a portable music player.

O, Not in cruelty, nor in wrath,

The Reaper came that day.

An Angel visited this green Earth,

And took my iPod away.

Well, there you have it. I hope it was to your satisfaction. Goodnight.