Original Poetry:
Out of School (Hal Summers)
Four o’clock strikes,
There’s a rising hum,
Then the doors fly open,
The children come.
With a wild cat-call
And a hop-scotch hop
And a bouncy ball
And a whirling top.
Grazing of knees,
A hair-pull and a slap,
A hitched up satchel,
A pulled down cap,
Bully boys reeling off,
Hurt ones squealing off,
Aviators wheeling off,
Mousy ones stealing off,
Woollen gloves for chilblains,
Cotton rags for snufflers,
Pigtails, coat-tails,
Tails of mufflers,
Machine gun cries,
A kennelful of snearlings,
A hurricane of leaves,
A treeful of starlings,
Thinning away now
By some and some,
Thinning away, away,
All gone home.
Pastiche on a poetry:
Sound of the alarm,
An encouraging odor,
A temptation of the bed,
A knock from the door.
Staring at the door,
The eyelids fall,
The sight covered with soar,
The white fogs roll.
The world of dream,
A snow-like rabbit,
A cake full of cream,
A world without git,
A bird sings out,
A girl dances out,
The sweets run out,
And I walked out.
There’s a door in front,
And a voice,
And a knock,
And the door makes noise.
The door squeak opens,
The sight blacks out,
The recover of consciousness,
The mind clears out.
The time was eight,
The bus had gone,
I will be late,
I ran out the door.
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