Written originally in November 2004 as a self evaluation for a college English class and updated in 2024

'Twas a week before midterm, when all through the house
One student was cramming - 
Eek Gods! There's a mouse!!
Relief! Not a mouse
Just my eyes playing tricks
Now, I guess I can put down this giant beef stick
"Why do you hold a beef stick?" you ask
It's fuel for my brain while I'm cramming for class
Drat! I have drifted from the tale to be told
I blame the coffee 
I think it's grown mold

Now nestle yourself down for a time
I'll put on fresh coffee and tell you a rhyme
I'll tell you a tale of a student you've got...
No more digression!
Now back to the plot!

So yes, she was cramming
I started to say
So that by her efforts she'd earn her an "A"
An "A"! Yes, I said it
Do not be surprised
This tale was created by one who's quite wise
An "A" is impressive
A well worthy grade
But what had she done that she an "A" made?
A very good question, my pondering friend
But settle yourself and don't jump to the end
Now confidence often eluded her grasp
Writing, however, was her favorite task

Poetry, prose, and free verse pleased her best
Then writing on topics of interest next
The projects that tore at her brain in the night
Were things she found boring or just did not like
But wordsmith, she was, and was up to the challenge
To muster her will and from her head scavenge
The words and ideas, and like clay in her hands
Shape them and mold them to topic and plans
With thesaurus and dictionary at her side
On her word crafting skills, she did hang her pride

So with effort and skill - and talent there, too
She crafted her papers 'til ready to view
With knots in her stomach that came with the trade
She waited for feedback
But mostly her grade
The feedback she loved since it helped or assured
But although it helped it lacked the allure
That a high ranking paper - yes! Better than the last
Served as her marker to push her through class

Neither science nor math held place in her heart
The crafting of language was her favorite art
Like brush strokes on canvas
With her words she could paint
An ominous sky or a barren landscape
The sorrowful wilting of summer's last leaf
Or the rising sun blanching the sand with its heat
An insignificant sliver of silver moonlight
That with its dull beam, still pierces the night
This was her art, her joy, and her passion
She only needed a pen to take action

And so she does cram her mind with the best
That literature's scholars hold close to their breast
Taking examples from word choice and plot
She studies the masters with every thought
She hopes that one day she, too, might be read
In a book by some students, long after she's dead

And now to the end of my tale, I have come
A few more smart lines, and then I am done
An "A" she did earn, and now you see why
This student was good, I will not belie
She was not perfect
Of course not!
No way!
But if she keeps writing
Perhaps so one day

So home with yourself now, it's late and I'm tired
The page, now, will wait 'til I'm next inspired
There is one last wish as I show you out
To Teacher from the student that this is about
Happy grading to you, as red pens take their flight
And to you I do wish a very good write!

-gws