Writtten

Yes I know that this was in my previous blog on Friendster, but I thought that I would just paste it here as well...

The school is closed, the children gone,

But the ghost of a teacher lingers on.

As the daylight fades, as the daytime ends,

As the night draws in and the dark descends,

She stands in the classroom, as clear as glass.

And calls the names of her absent class.

The school is shut, the children grown,

But the ghost of the teacher, all alone,

Puts the date on the board and moves about,

As the night draws on and the stars come out.

Between the desks - a glow in the gloom -

And calls for quiet in the silent room.

The school is a ruin, the children fled,

But the ghost of the teacher, long-time dead,

As the moon comes up and the first owls glide,

Puts on her coat and steps outside.

In the moonlit playground, shadow-free,

She stands on duty with a cup of tea.

As the night creeps up to the edge of the day,

She tidies the plasticine away;

Counts the scissors - a shimmer of glass -

And says, "Off you go!" to her absent class.

She utters the words that no one hears,

Picks up her bag....and......disappears.

And also this...

I glazed at the window, through the frost

Leaves feathered patterns, crissed and crossed,

There in the garden lies the tree

Or what is left of what used to be,

Times where tiny dots of light

Coloured up the darkest night,

And the songs of love, familiar and slow,

Playing softly on the radio.

Pops and hisses from the fire

I slumped to my knees with no desire,

My friend, my love, is now fast asleep

On her back and dreaming deep.

What can do to turn the time

And all I want can be mine,

But that is not how it's s'pose to be

I have lost all; even my family.

You might be forgotten - people forget -

But the memory of you lingers yet,

Tomorrow's what I'm waiting for

But I can wait a little more.