On A Thursday Noon [Sonnet]

On a Thursday noon to Oxford we went

To see a castle and prison of old;

The captives there did not dare to repent,

(To the school their still bodies would be sold)

Next, our creative passions were unleashed;

Posters of feelings that they might have felt

They were so clear, the posters seemed to scream,

Above them no words needed to be spelt;

At last in the cool velvet skies we saw,

A man in black outfit, cape, and top hat;

Round Oxford we traipsed to see ghosts and more,

The places where royal people had sat;

Overall the minds of our girls were won,

The bright sun was down, the good trip was done!

The End

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