You, Awe Lady Jacqueline, are something to be seen 

You sit and talk and type, the end is not foreseen 

So, as I sit and wait for you, I know not what will be 

I only know that when you’re through, bliss is what I’ll see

For listening to the sound you type, is music to my ears 

I love to think that we connect, the words on paper hears 

And, when we’re through, we just sit back, the poem the written word 

For you have finished the lesson then, and I, as told, am heard