Christmas Tomfoolery

There stands a place called BGU

Whose students are fabulous, if few

‘Cause teaching ain’t easy

And teens make me queasy

So all the more power to you!

Sometimes a whisper is louder than a shout

But when the rest of the world views you with doubt

A chance arises and you take a shot

It turns out to be one of the best things you’ve got

At times being a grown-up can be hard

Some weeks you want to hand in your card

But this place, and the people, will take your hand

Even if they don’t quite understand

They give you time, if you need, the space

If there’s anything you find hard to face

BGU have got your back

And do what they can to get you on track

There’s just something can’t be defined

A place that really sticks in the mind

So give it a go, as you never know

What could happen if you let yourself grow

BGU is named for Bishop Bob

Who had lots of fun with light*

There’s lions on the proper badge

But Jonty wins the catfight.

We are at the top of a great steep hill

The Mad Hatter’s at home indeed

Skinner’s got a tonne of stairs

But none of them go where you need!

But by far the jewels in the crown

Are the people at BGU

They never ever let you down;

They are a very special crew.

*I don’t know if he actually had fun, but rainbows are nice, aren’t they.

Can I get this off my chest?

It’s truly not that I’m oppressed

Or that I’m feeling fearful, lest

My place of work is held in jest,

It’s just, responding to request

As to my Uni, I’m distressed

When that location, when expressed

So seldom brings a look impressed

But rather, tends to one perplexed

And puzzled looks tend to suggest

That north or south or east or west

No soul has heard of Grosseteste!

[Chorus]

So, who are we?

We’re Bishop G

Say, we are who?

We’re BGU

And, you know what?

We’re Bishop Grot

So, can’t you see?

We are BG!

And even when I have announced it

The next thing is, they can’t pronounce it!

It’s not that I would now denounce it

But ‘Grossly Tess’? I cannot stand it!

‘Grow Testes’ gives wish the ground it

Swallow me would – I mean, confound it –

Called ‘Big balls?!’ (And yes, I know it

Really means his head but still it

Makes me blush, I’ll not deny it.)

[Chorus]

So, who are we?

We’re Bishop G

Say, we are who?

We’re BGU

And, you know what?

We’re Bishop Grot

So, can’t you see?

We are BG!

So, finishing off this little rhyme

I’ll give myself a little time

To make it clear: I’m in my prime

And being so, it were no crime

To hope my research might align

With top professors’, and could climb

(who knows?) one day to somewhere fine

Might even rise to heights sublime…

But (and this brings tingles down my spine):

There is no point to seek a ‘chair’

If everyone will just ask, ‘…. WHERE?!’

And so, Grows Testy, do your worst

(and yes, you might feel I’m perverse)

But my ambition has dispersed

And, doing so, becomes diverse

And so, I plead you, unrehearsed

To grant me, in no sense coerced

(And really, yes, you could do worse):

A Readership – in doggerel verse!

This poem of Bishop Grosseteste

Is written at Aimee’s behest,

Teaching’s what we do

Since 1862

Producing the brightest and best.