Ms. Barclay has randomly selected the following seven words for me to incorporate into a poem:

Paratroops
Refectory
Overkill
Volatile
Fracted
Mermaid
Southland

I have interpreted these words as representative of the moment the bell rings and every Royal makes a break for the food service in the following sonnet.

***

In this great sea of seniority we
Bobble like bubbles down the senior stairs
Mermaids of this red and gold oceanly
Tide, southland and steady till meet we cares

Of smoothies, of cookies, of little pizzas
We volatile mix of such hungry mouths
Down we drop, paratroops of Mona Lisas
To a refectory, war-torn and loud

And so the bell chimes and we cut corners
Fighting to reach one secret oasis
They greet us with smiles, sweet as the portions
Shoes split and laces fracted in stasis

Long we wait and for something deeply grand
Overkill it’s not, the treat of the hand.