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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.
Copyright ©
Antony Glaser
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