(Wrote this little poem in honor of faculty development week. Yeah right. Enjoy ;-)!!!!)

And when one faculty is developed,

What happens to the rest?

Do they whither and crack like dry hay

Turn into tumbleweeds

Quietly roll in the wind, cross paths with

Ghosts of cowboys killed in shoot outs

Or accidentally hit in merrymaking

When random folk shoot their guns

In the air, as if bullets don’t fall,

fast and fatally upon reveling heads?

Do they turn sour like pansit,

Left too long out on the buffet table

Then taken to work the next day

Noodles mushy and stinky with

Yesterday’s unfulfilled wish?

Or do they take off?