The frown is trying to take over. Smilers of the world: unite.


Teacher's Pit.

I was told to help with her homework
So I did a mind-cast
Back to when I was six:
My time-travel, aerial mind-mast
Tuned me straight to that age
And my thoughts simpled
To when weather was new
And the only thing that impelled
Was the urge to fun.
Homework was for later and older
When weather turned school
Forever colder.

There she was
With her worksheet of lines
And drawings:
Learning's fines
For being born to a time
Of measurement
Instead of that time for sunny us
Who learned as we learnt what leisure meant.
Her bored look
And reluctant pencil
Combined to shape
The Devil's stencil:
His image dark-burned
And brought me back to her stress
When she should have been
Marvelling at growing cress
In a jam-jar
Or making me kid-dafter
With her attempts at recorder-playing
And bursting into laughter
At a joke
That she'd created
And that only she understood
And which her cells had inflated
Into the funniest thing
That I had no chance
Of getting.
And , she should dance.

We had to rate the exercise
On a feedback form:
My telling her to put bollucks
Caused a storm
With her prissy missy teacher.
I apologised in a letter so, so
Treacly that it had calories
I promised to never again spell bollocks with a "u" instead of an "o".

13:06, Tue. 15/01/2013.




Poetry by Mark J. Wood
Read 759 times
Written on 2013-04-09 at 14:01

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josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
This is a very pleasant and funny poem. I just loved it!

Bravo!

Joe
2013-04-10


countryfog
You've not lost touch with your own "inner child" . . . may you never, it's a rare and wonderful thing. My children are now middle-aged but I'm beginning to find my child again with my grandchildren. This is a lovely and loving poem, evocative of very special moments, remembered by us older folks so vividly because we shared the perfect innocence of our children.
2013-04-09


F.i.in.e Moods The PoetBay support member heart!
This is so funny! Made me laugh out when apologies were sent to the teacher for the misspelled word 'bollocks' - oh how I have wished to send replies like that with some of my sons' teachers!

The descriptions of the little girl wanting to have fun and laughing at her own jokes only she understands and busting her spleen with, and her reticence and boredom of getting on with homework, and the adult's sympathizing and jumping into her child's world to make it more fun for her, all picture the moment so vibrantly and clearly. Calls to my mind my own experience with my youngest son, too, as he is very much like the little girl.

I am a definite smiler after this :) Enjoyed your poem very much.
2013-04-09