THE SCHOOLS OF LIFE

 

THE SCHOOLS OF LIFE

When I was five and nigh on six

Mam did end my homely tricks

‘Far too long you’ve played the fool

Time I sent you to that school!’

Slow sinks in the mournful news

Looms first term at St Andrew’s!

Tis right and just at head of ditty

To credit here a lass named Vitie

Full rare is it in world to find

Those who show a side so kind

Round cool kids was wont to hang

Found myself in Darren’s gang

Content were we neath church’s eaves

Till told one day that we must leave!

Scarce had we the time to frown  

‘Fore they’d pulled the whole lot down

Uprooted satchel, bat, and ball

Despatched up to that Red Hall!

So much from here is in a haze

Stretched out o'er too long days

Dread of bully on long black path

 That reign cut short by a mother’s wrath!

Reach the summer, blow out cheeks

Free for six eternal weeks!

Next to ‘Ortun went a’tremblin.

That no place for my dissembling

Not one of those who likes PE

To skip it I’d have paid full fee

(Yet to score my maiden goal

Tween the sticks was Fatty’s role!)

In terror of the woodwork room

In English Lit only did I bloom

Two more years would keep me busy

At College of the ol’ Queen Lizzie

She failed to make me fit for hire 

And shortly knew the blight of fire

When days end in dull classrooms

The tougher lessons are still to come

To be ever learning is the trend

School I’ve found does never end

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

NO BODY THERE

35. NO BODY THERE   Of thing most odd and strange to tell I wish right here to sound the knell Of saints I know who stay at home To no church ever do they roam Now be clear in what I paint And don't mistake my class of saint Suffers he no painful rift Nor fails to go for want of lift Hindered not by ice or snow No age nor ailment does he show By none of these from church is rent But stays at home by firm intent   Tis not hard to see the draw For Sunday Best is quite the chore Nice to laugh at fog and frost Stay in PJs at no cost All he seeks in God’s whole House Can still be his by click of mouse Where late-comers can never rile He easy mutes that bawling child Plodding preacher holds no fear For online stars he only hears No sermon too dull or too long None to warn the word is wrong Easy come, easy cleave None to care what he believes And is it less real to break the Bread Even when he’s still in bed?   Bu...
Read more

END-TIME PERILS

30. END-TIME PERILS   When I was young all things did know Twas easy then end-times to show Zechariah, Daniel, I both had read Not even Ezekiel caused me dread Knew famed Apocalypse by heart Chapter and list, text and chart Saw not a reason nor a rhyme For shade of view on Millennial time Could show by scribbling from Holy Writ Just where in it all the Jews did fit Warned church folks of future foes Odd fell beasts and horses four Holding forth in strident tone Number of Beast was clearly shown Waded in still deeper waters Prophesied like Philip’s daughters!   Yet to all this God called a halt Showed me in an hour all my fault   Did through His Spirit, a work so deft Not one stone upon another was left Now when I read, view text with text I find in truth I’m quite perplexed I’m humbler now and chastened too (If still one day I may build anew) But for now I stay with what’s clear A simple hope to bring me cheer So...
Read more

WYCLIFFE

25. MORNING STAR A short drive from my hometown you can find what was once a lido, a favoured spot for a summer’s outing, and site at one time of a miniature railway. All gone now, but I well recall the occasion when a walk downstream from there uncovered a delightful local secret…   Where water meets an aging span A stroll by Tees I once did plan Where fondest dog was wont to go I’d seek out old rail and lost lido Beyond fall’s roar and river’s foam I chanced upon a tithe of homes There midst leaf and sap of birch Lay a charming country church To give her name I am not chary For finer name is none than Mary Drawn by hope to find a host I neared to mark her doorway boast Wait, what name of note is this Hidden shy in bucolic bliss? An English son of proudest toast A name once known from coast to coast Amazed was I 'neath tree and cliff To drop right here on John Wycliffe! Rising Star who hailed the morn Paved the way for Reform's daw...
Read more