By Helen

Alas for work I cannot do
I'm stricken with the Gruber-flu
As work piles up upon my desk
My head is filled with grey spandex
And greenish eyes in a striped face
A body filled with feeline grace
Everytime I hear him speak
My body melts, my knees go weak
I raptly ponder each detail
Deep soothing voice and furry tail
A smile that turns me into goo
Alas, Alas for Gurber-flu
Of Gruber-thoughts I've never tired
But I must work or I'll get fired!