Twas the week before finals, when all through the halls

Not a Cadet was stirring, not even a teacher.

The study packets were stuffed in a backpack with care,

In hopes that winter break would soon be there.

The seniors were all snuggled in their lounge,

While visions of acceptance letters danced in their heads.

And he in his tie and I in my skirt,

Had just settled down for a long winter exam.

When out in Paull Gym there arose such a clatter,

I sprang away from my desk to see what was the matter,

Away from my seat I flew like a flash,

Tore open the doors and hoping I would pass.

The teachers stationed on the breast of the newly waxed floor,

I just wanted to head towards the door.

When, what to my wondering pencil should appear,

But an eight page mid term with paper to spare.

***

At the end of an hour, to the class he gave a sign

All of the students had chills up their spine.

I heard him exclaim, as they rose up towards the front,

"Happy Finals to all and to all passing grades a good-night!"