University squirrels have lived 

For generations on the grounds.

They can't read the epitaphs,

But play in the shadows of statues,

And they absorb the sounds of the bells that ring

From the lofty towers.

They dig small holes in the grassy common,

And watch the ignorant coeds kiss.

The squirrels chatter idle warnings

About playing with fire and chuckle

At the harmless fun the lovers think they're having.

But the squirrels don't laugh

When they see me

Wandering through the garden.

They remember the way I kissed you,

True fire, true heat, the boiling passion

That burns and longs.

The erudite university squirrels know

How I yearn to dig a small hole,

Pull you down in it with me

And love you,

For I am ignorant 

Concerning the wild beautiful ways 

Nature has to multiply Love.

-jenn