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Subject: The Old School House

Ted Yahraus
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Date Posted: 21:05:41 11/22/02 Fri
Author Host/IP: 140-pool3.ras10.inind.alerondial.net/

I found it by chance, while hiking back-trails,
Older than yesterday, sagging timbers, rusting nails.
Cracked school bell, long silent... young voices now stilled,
Countless lessons, now rustling leaves, cups of memories, filled...

Beyond gray creaking door, desks covered with mold,
Carved names and initials, speak volumes untold...
My feet kick the dust on cracked wooden floor,
Spirit-voices whine in the wind, their lives are no more.

Before I was born, they dreamed futures so bright,
Old school-mar'm never letting them out of her sight!
Three R's, plus the Bible, served up every day,
Built those young souls a foundation to stay.

My eyes lingered on, reading scenes in my mind,
Happy faces, tattered textbooks, late homework to find.
Dark stains, last remnants, from a pot-belly stove,
Cold winters were warmed by logs from the grove.

Thorny arms scratched me, as I closed the old door,
My paths and the school house, likely crossing no more...
Many years down life's road, as I ponder it all,
Those spirits still whisper; from that classroom they'll call.

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Subject Author Date
Re: The Old School HouseDeb16:17:25 11/23/02 Sat
Re: The Old School HouseDeb16:18:08 11/23/02 Sat
Re: The Old School HouseLori S. Maynard17:07:10 11/23/02 Sat
Re: The Old School HouseWayne Adams02:11:46 11/27/02 Wed

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