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School Poems

By Josie Whitehead

At Ten Past Eight .jpg


By Josie Whitehead

At Ten Past Eight

At ten past eight on each school day -
And not on Saturday I’ll say -
     The bus to school would come in sight
      And often I was in a plight -

For my Mum used to plait my hair
And, though she took the utmost care,
      I knew that without any fuss
      That I must dash to catch that bus.

I knew that free from Mum and comb
I then could flee my family home.
      I’d sprint with speed to the bus stop
      And on this vehicle I’d hop.

I’m sure the driver watched for me
For surely every day he’d see
    Me quickly dash with arm outstretched,
    With speed of feet and muscles stretched.

He also knew, if I were late,
That at the other end would wait
     A punishment so very cruel 
     For children who came late to school.

The teacher’s ruler would come out
And it was cowardly to shout
     When on my knuckles it cracked down -
     The teacher wearing a cross frown.

Train for Olympics?  No, no need -
My daily run improved my speed.
     And now, aged 70 plus, - - - - ah me -
     At ten past eight I sip my tea.

Copyright on my poems   

Do you enjoy running for the bus (or do your parents take you to school in a car)?  Nearer to 80 than 8, I can write better poems than run for a bus.  Josie
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