Boarding School
you took me down to Eastbourne boarding school
to offer me a palliative
to cure my dyslexia
I lived for your letters
until the teachers got it
to a fine art
" No news is good news"
Each teacher telling they cured you
one naturally took exception
Latin and French lessons seemed to be a distraction
I needed English
Every pupil a curates egg
their backgrounds so prosaic
The cat with three legs
and the whipping tails of the Heads Labradors'
And preparing strawberries
with the Dutch chef
told me I missed my North London abode.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
