Confessions of a Liberal Puritan

Belated Birthday Present for missmurchison:

“A Poetic Tribute from Spike”

(Spike asked me to pass this along on your birthday, Miss M, but alas! I was distracted with much serving and did not attend to that one, needful thing in time! The culpa is all mea! The poetry, on the other hand, is definitely William's.)

Early one evening, just as the sun was sinking,
I spied a dark-haired matron in the public library.
She had her laptop open and was furiously thinking,
So she did not see me stalking her, till I sat upon her knee.
“O dear Miss M,” I purred,
“What is the latest word?
Who will I be shagging in your fanfic tonight?”

She paused her ruminations, and turned to look me in the eye,
And asked if I was quite at home, sitting there upon her lap?
I smirked, and told her not to fret, that she had a very comfy thigh,
And I would not dream of leaving her, to which she replied, “Ah, crap!
Oh, vampire Spike, my dear,
What are you doing here?
Why can’t you leave me be, and find someone to fight?”

Said I, “It’s you who’ve brought me here; it’s you I had to reach.
You’ve written me so very well and made me feel so blest.
You love both monster and the man you see beneath the bleach,
And you never tire of finding ways to put me to the test.
On this, your natal day,
How could I stay away?
How could I not thank you, O moon of my delight?”

For once, Miss M was speechless, and I took this as my exit cue,
To leave her once again in peace, with her laptop and caffeine.
But as I turned to go, I heard her say, “I give you but your due.
I love to see how much you’ll grow, though I try not to be mean.”
Then the sound of rapid clacking
Of her keypad sent me packing,
Assured that she would always try to do my trials right.