Poetry Created at the June 14, 2007 Luncheon for Administrators and Deans at Hotel@MIT
(to the night before Xmas)
Twas the night before the Dean's luncheon, and
All through the School,
Not an AO was stirring
They were all pretty cool.
The robes were all hung from the rafters with care
In hopes that summer soon would be there.
And Sheila in the Dean's Office came up with a plan.
She couldn't have done it without Brian and Mary Anne.
Donna sat watching, amused as could be. Where was Dick Yue?
In Japan, drinking sake and tea.
Out on the great court, arose such a clatter. The Dean was departing.
What the hell was the matter?
The funds were all depleted. The staff were gone.
The heck with all this.
It's time to move on.
Good bye, our dear Sheila and Tom.
We'll miss your great presence, but
Your spirit lives on!
(to the sound of music—doe, a deer)
Tom, a name we call our dean.
Deb, who helps to raise the funds.
Dick, who guides our engine and ship.
Brian, who watches all the beans.
Mary Anne, who sends us lots of mail.
Donna, who guides us through the year.
Sheila, who leaves it all to us.
And that will brings us back to Tom.
Rose are Red
Violets are Blue
Tom is leaving
So, we are blue too
While leaving us here in the mire.
We hope we can put out all the fires
We'll face our trials
While Sheila's hanging with Miles
"Nothing's simple"—until you retire.
(to who could ask for anything more)
We've got programs.
We've got great staff.
We've got great deans.
Who could ask for anything more?
Paraphrasing Winston Churchill's "The Few"
Never in the School of Engineering history was so much owed by so many to so few.
(Tom and Sheila)
(from Donna)
Roses are red
Violets are blue
We'll miss you Sheila
But not the silly games.
Knock Knock
Who's there?
Nobody, Sheila's gone.
(rap to the following rhythm)
S-O-E D-L-C C-R-A-Z-Y
Woke up in the night
With thoughts of things to do.
Left a voicemail to myself,
And in the morning wondered who,
Left this raspy message
In a voice I didn't know.
Yet another thing for me to do,
And places I should go.
Who are they to tell me this?
Who are they to take my time?
And as I listened to the voice.
I realized the voice was mine.
S-O-E D-L-C C-R-A-Z-Y