LESSONS
At each opportunity,
You become lost in your own plain thought and fantasies;
Either listening to the melting rain outside
Or mildly planning your next murder.
You find you have to,
Before slipping back into your school-self once more,
To face the soul-destroying challenge
Ahead.
THERE WAS HARDLY A MOMENT OF PEACE LEFT
There was hardly a moment of peace left.
The clocks on the wall were desperately
Turning somersaults
Trying to keep time with God`s madness,
Whilst the sun was falling about the sky
With laughter,
And the rain kept on laughing and singing
In the streets.
The world was the shade of poppies
And we were all a little hysterical
And worried,
As we saw our heads, turn into peanuts
And harps, wings and halos flying from the sky;
Until we agreed unanimously, that the world had
come to an end.
Although, in a way, it was just another beginning.
10 March 1967
Marjorie 