Dear Sir, I wish to lodge a strong protest
Against the upkeep of our college grounds;
This afternoon, my body was at rest
Beneath a shady tree, admiring sounds
Of blue birds calling one another.  How
They sing their love of England's summer, joy
Effusing from their whistled tune; yet now
I fancy that their song is but a ploy
To captivate a poor soul such as I,
Who seeks to find solace from lectured tomes
And so reclines to watch the clouds float by.
Beneath the trees these blue birds call their homes,
        My head was bruised by fruit they dropped on me!
        I trust you understand the gravity?