River Wissey Lovell Fuller


July 2004

A timely poem from Beryl giving some of the tensions of this time in the school year

A taut tense atmosphere

The swish of papers sharply turned

Heads moving downwards, line by line

Deep sighs - contentment or


Brows puckered - tight pulled by tiredness

A small world of hope - maybe

Despair - bound by the classroom walls


The boys till now, crude

Yelling, immature as pups

Are changed to harassed men

Minds - pops, scooters, fashions all forgot

Are solemn - till


Beryl Johns

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