On Top of Green Library
by Anonymous
All Stanford’s walls are brown or tan,
We’ve often heard it said,
And all must have, by ancient plan,
Red tile overhead.

A pleasing pattern this, although
A trifle unexciting.
As color innovations go,
The place is uninviting.

To alter this would be a crime:
Suggestions to are buried.
Yet on occasion, for a time,
This simple pattern’s varied.

You don’t believe it? Don’t heed me,
Just have a look at Green,
And if you look just right, you’ll see
Exactly what I mean.

Among the tiles of the roof,
A gleam of turquoise blue
Attracts the eye — a vibrant proof
Our rule’s not always true.

Oh whence could this anomaly
Have come, so bright and rare?
And just what is it? Could it be?
They’ve put an outhouse there!

* * * * *

On Top of Green Library

Originally published in
SUL News Notes, Vol. 5, no. 27, Aug. 2, 1996.

1st web edition posted 7/29/2008.
This page last updated 7/29/2008.

© 1996-2008 by Fleabonnet Press for the author.