On we go:

Only night will ever know

Why the heavens never show

All the dreams there are to know

Paint the sky with stars

Aha! Roma here uses the literary device of "distractio ad absurdum" - yes, Master Card, that IS indeed Latin. Mother Multilinguia must be so proud of you!

So, what will Night know, and why ONLY Night, why not Only Time, who knows where the road goes, but I digress again. Night ALONE will seize upon some special knowledge, some scintillating bit of data that will blow its hard drive up like a car in an Enya video.

What WILL Night know, Miss Rhine? Yes, you are correct, the answer IS in the next two lines. Night alone will know "why the heavens never show/all the dreams there are to know." Now, let us cognitate upon this: is it, we ponder, the task of Night to understand the heavens? What gives Night this special duty and/or task, if you prefer? No, Miss Beguiled, it is not that Night was the only applicant for the job; I’m sure Brother Art Official was also interested.

Well, dear classh, NIGHT has been placed, by Roma, at the head of the heavens (notice that lovely alliteration). The heavens CONFIDE in Only Night (which may well be the title of the next Enya single, but I must not digress); ah, but the heavens hold a secret from everything and everyone else, for they will not display a plethora of dreams! Yes, so many dreams, so little time. We ALL have dreams, n'est-ce pas? Some of you may even dream of graduating from Roma Ryan’s High - in your dreams!

But, with so many dreams out there - billions and billions and billions - how COULD the heavens display them all in the first place? And why should we KNOW each other's dreams anyhow? Just last week, Sister Sigmunda was explaining the significance of the dream process, at one of our little retreats in the Bahamas. Well, she was adamant that one's dreams are UNIQUE to one, and reflect our innermost desires - not that I have such things, alas. Now, where am I going with this? I haven't a clue, but I do know that we should NOT spy on each other's dreams. And THAT is why the heavens clam up, they have read Freud too!

“Paint the sky with stars”: finally, we return to poor Xulub, who has been enduring this stanza patiently, brush in hand, eager to paint those cute little stars! I wonder what his or her dreams are, but the heavens will not squeal, especially when Xulub is about to latex them really good!

Roma now gives us a BRIDGE: shall we collectively cross it? Good, Mister Blister, I am so happy that your high spirits are higher than ever. Will you please sing it for us:

Who has placed the midnight sky

So a spirit has to fly?

As the heavens seem so far, now

Who will paint the midnight star?

Ah yes, Roma continues in this stanza her exploration of the heavens. The time is now midnight - is that perhaps why Master Piece is snoring? - and we gaze upon the fantabulistic luminosity of the sky - but the REAL question is always, with Roma, the metaphysical one: WHO, classh, has set the sky where it is set? Well, I am sure it isn't poor Xulub, who is still waiting to get on with his paint job - aha! Xulub is JOB! He must suffer much before he is free to exist on the heavenly plane - isn't Roma subtle in the Biblical way?

Well, Roma now gets to the point of this intrepid stanza: the SPIRIT! Yes, classh, the spirit, but not the one you have been seen drinking outside the building in between classhes. The SPIRIT, our Spirit, has to fly way way way up up up to the midnight sky! There will be no lesser means of transit for our Spirit, no bus or trolley - NO, our Spirits must FLY away, fly away, fly away, unto the midnight sky, where WHO will be there to greet it with open arms! Are you now getting even an inkling of WHO WHO is? Excellent, Miss Rhine: a supreme BEING. Isn't this metaphorically metaphysical? Ah, be still my quaking heart!

“As the heavens seem so far”: SEEM? Indeed, they ARE far away, far away, far away. Up and up and up our Spirits continue to ascend the stairway to Heaven via the Midnight Star Express. Then, a semi-climax:

“Who will paint the midnight star?” Alas, it is our poor Job figure ipse, Xulub. Heavy with holding onto the paint can and that very long brush, Xulub awaits, like Job, his chance to paint the midnight star - a model of spiritual endurance and divine patience, if I may say so myself, and I do.

So, classh, in this stanza Roma has elaborated upon the significance of Xulub, our poetic, pathetic persona: HE has not placed the midnight sky - no - that is done by someone higher up the totem pole, so to speak. Xulub is being tested, a la Job: he must wait and stretch as far as he can to reach the midnight sky with his mighty brush. Perhaps the scaffolding used in the Sistine Chapel would be welcome, but I fear I may be digressing yet again.

Well, so far, so good, as they say! Now, Miss Spoken, will you please recite, with appropriate emotive power, the next stanza:

Night has brought to those who sleep

Only dreams they cannot keep

I have legends in the deep

Paint the sky with stars

NIGHT! Now where has Night been encountered before, Miss Understood? Absolutely correct - in the second stanza, and I was sure you were asleep again! Yes, there we discovered the power of the Night over the heavens, the MUSIC of the Night - I keep hearing this phantom-like voice in my head, studnuts; oh well, not to worry. I probably just have a mild case of AndrewLloydWebberitis.

So, Roma reprises Night here, and tells us something truly terrible about it: it brings dreams that we, as human beings, some of us even sentient, cannot possibly keep! When we sleep, we dream, but, says Roma, those dreams cannot be kept - so, what are we to do with them? THAT is the question. Another question - and yes, this may be on the final exam - is WHY is Night so ding dong mean in the first place? Does Night enjoy torturing us with dreams we cannot keep? Mean, nasty, evil, cruel Night - a pox on Night, fiat lux! Preferably with bagels.

In summary execution, Night sends us dreams we cannot keep - what a royal bummer. But, compare what is said in the second stanza: the heavens never show all the dreams there are to know. Aha, stingy heaven ONLY sends us dreams that we cannot keep - the others are left for Loxians, Martians, Venusians, New York Yankees, or other forms of alien life.

But continue to listen, classh: “I have legends in the deep”! Legends in the deep? What on earth does Roma mean here - what "deep"? The deep sky, the deep ocean, Johnny Deep - who knows? But we DO know that "I" have legends in the deep - who is I? Aha, Xulub is BAAAACK! Our intrepid Michelangelo of the sky still stands, Job like, awaiting Godot. Did you forget about him! Of course, not - he is the metaphysical, metaphorical, metabeing in the poem. Xulub knows, as we do not, that dreams which cannot be kept MUST be deeped six! THAT is what Roma means, believe it or not! And once those impossible dreams (to dream the impossible dream) are deep sixed, then we may, at last, get on with our lives: hence the final line: “Paint the sky with stars”. Xulub wants to do just that, good fellow that he is. And, he is Everyman and Everywoman - whose dreams have faded away, and who must pick up that paint can and just do it!

We then find that same bridge we crossed over before, but I think we can skip to the loo with it and move further into the core of this poem. You see, studnuts, we have a climax to deal with! Yes, Miss Taken, we come now to mutilate the final spectacular stanza of “Paint the Sky with Stars,” preferably before dear Xulub dies of boredom:

Place a name upon the night

One to set your heart alight

And to make the darkness bright

Paint the sky with stars.

Ah, what a melodious finality we encounter here: “Place a name upon the night” - Yes! We need to KNOW what the Night is called; perhaps it is called Lord Víkíng, or Sir Lancelot, or Barney the Mage, or Darth Vader....er, just a moment, I think I have the wrong Knight in mind, ahem. It's that other kind of night that Roma means! She salutes us with the Night that opposes the Day, the time of darkness when the stars come out, especially at the Oscars.

But the name that we must place upon the Night is quite specific: we must give it a name that will set your heart alight. Now, if Roma is really talking here about heartburn, then we all know that Pepto-Brennan ™ will do the job. If she refers to barbequeing one's heart, then I think we may have a problem finding a volunteer! Oh, Miss Took, your hand was raised; how nice of you of volunteer. So, flaming hearts it is! But note that Roma writes YOUR heart, so we must return our muddled attention to Xulub, poor fellow, still hanging onto that paint can. It is HIS heart that must be set alight, and I bet he doesn’t even smoke; but he soon will.

“And to make the darkness bright”: of course, if we set Xulub's heart on fire, we will make the darkness bright, but Roma has another faux pas awaiting us:

“Paint the sky with stars”! You see, classh, we must run all of this phenomenal linguistic fancy together: for Xulub's heart will make the darkness bright by painting the sky with stars, using Latex by Enya (TM).

Aha, Xulub's hands are SOOO tired from holding all that painting gear for SOOO long that only his Heart now has the strength to carry on, to actually DO the painting! And we all know that the Heart is stronger than the Pen, er, the Flesh! How ecstatic I feel, don't you feel ecstatic, Master Card? Sigh, apparently not. I do feel so sorry for your Apparents.

So, classh, we may well ask at this climatic point, what IS this poem about? Well, I am NOT spoon-feeding any more studnuts by giving you all the answers; your next assignation, due in ten minutes, is to compose a lucid paragraph about the ultimate meaning of this Ryan gem. But I shall provide you with a pregnant hint: Xulub works for Aigle Music as a cobweb designer!

The clock is now ticking............................................

I shall meanwhile join Brother Divine in the Faculty Lounge.