Stopping My Schoolwork on a Boring Evening

Whose words these are I think I know.

Her tales are on the bookshelf, though;

She will not lead my thoughts aside

To watch my piles of schoolwork grow.

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My parents think my grades will slide

With stories always by my side,

Between the textbooks large and small,

The best place fantasy can hide.

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In whispered voice she loves to call,

To tease my daydreams, to enthrall.

The sound persists among the sweep

Of bustling students in the hall.

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Her words are magical and deep,

But I've a schedule to keep,

And pages to write before I sleep,

And pages to write before I sleep.