Tag Archives: school

Homer and his ilk

The teachers pets sat at the front, had all her attention
the boys and I languished at the back
where three long bookshelves were stuffed full
with books not intended for a primary school
here poetry and myth seeped into my being
as I dodged paper airplanes

Here I met Achilles, Agamemnon, grew up in Sparta
saw the first marathon run
lived deep in primeval forests
loved slightly dippy Thor, discovered Loki
Kokopelli and Coyote
wanted a trickster god of my own

Copyright © 2021 Kim Whysall-Hammond

School

At age five I started school
I could already read and write
The teacher complained to my mother

The only free chair in the classroom
was next to John on the boys table.
He looked after me always. I taught him to read.

I remember happy days
camaraderie with the boys
punctuated by sly kicks from the girls.

Ever observant
I drew the moon in the morning sky.
My teacher called me stupid.

At age eleven, a new school
called me intelligent, poorly taught.
I left John and the boys behind.

Copyright © 2021 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Baby Brother

This wonderful poem from Glenys has really taken me back to dressing up my little boy for the school pickup–he had a Loch Ness monster hat!

lifecameos

Baby brother is dressed up
to collect his sisters from
school st home time.

Great Grandma knitted his bright
striped beanie, cousin Paul grew
out of the dashing dinosaur leggings;
little friend Oliver passed on the
jacket with Barney on it. The
tiny tartan sneakers came from
Sarah over the road, she’s at
kindergarten now, nearly a big girl.

Yes the big girls at school
will gush and coo and gasp
over him – he enjoys that already.

Mummy thinks he is cool too.
Holding him on her hip she
tickles his ribs with her free hand.
He giggles and wriggles
wiggles and jiggles
chuckles then shrieks
gleefully, joyously
grinning from ear to ear
energetically, excitedly.

It’s a happy day today !

Previously posted November 2016.

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Going to school

We are all three children
ready for school at last.
But who can go this morning?
Mum sits on the stairs crying
railing against our tardy ways.
She complains of our constant
losing of gloves and hats
not to mention sports kit
and of how hard it is to get us all ready.
My little brothers stand open-mouthed
frightened by this collapse of motherhood.
Older, I am far more worried about not
getting to school on time.
I’m still not allowed to walk there on my own
although the neighbour’s girl my age can,
and I’m wary of shepherding two
wayward little boys across the road to the school.
But, as Mum raises her voice in yet another wailing moan
I decide this must be done.

I pat her on the hand, and tell her
that I’ll do it today, then
I open the door.
Suddenly, I’m slapped, shouted at
called a little madam.
Suddenly, it’s fine for Mum to take us.
Crying, I hop from foot to foot
impatiently as she gets ready,
her ‘face’ needs to be put on which
always takes forever.

Copyright © 2019 Kim Whysall-Hammond