Quiz Time

(This was in response to a poetry-writing challenge...I think it was to write a poem in monorhyme.  It was fun!)

The day dawned bright and fair.
Teenagers everywhere
groaned loudly at the care
that Mrs. B made clear
she wanted them to share
in writing essays rare
on Chaucer's Chaunticleer.

Boys sat with faces bare,
and wished for their own share
of lazy summer fare,
of final moments rare
where they could take a dare
and kiss the shoulders bare
of girls down at the fair.

Girls fussed on with their hair,
and wished that they could stare
with longing eyes so clear
upon the handsome pair
of new boys over there
beside the wooden chair -
one boy would only glare.

Their teacher didn't care
that boys or girls weren't there
to learn about the fare
she had prepared so fair
for their especial care.
She really was aware
of each one's angry glare,

She put each in a pair
so they could each one share
the burden and the care
of reading Chaunticleer,
and memorizing fair
the lines about the dare
that caught him fair and square.

The fox out of his lair -
the students did not care!
The boys in lather rare
their goal would not forswear.
The girls sought to ensnare
the new boys in mohair -
they were without compare!

"Quiz time!" she did declare.
She knew this was warfare,
and since she would not swear,
she needed to beware,
or else the students there
would all her goals impair -
but she did not despair.

Pinning them with a stare,
her gimlet eyes aware
that no one had a prayer,
unless they had the flare
to let their thoughts cohere
on that poor Chaunticleer,
first question hung in air...

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