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Kicking up a ball before the teachers come ,
leaping over fences in the morning sun .
School children must have fun at play .
"Good morning teacher sir"
We all did say .
"Good morning boys . "
Was the reply at the beginning of another school day .
It was early morning in 1966,
A teacher with cane in hand approached,
"Who's responsible for breaking the windows "?
"Don't know sir"
We giggled in the background .
Screams of excitement echoed around the playground .
It was innocence at play .
Jumping from the roof twelve feet off the ground .
The teacher went off his head ,
"Stop that at once and come over here"
The din of his voice was like a police sirens screeched .
His voice through a megaphone blasted out .
"Good morning boys "
His welcome brought back a response just as loud ,
"Good morning teacher."
Holding the megaphone he had us children
in the palm of his hand .
It was winter and snow had fallen on our school .
Scattered across the concrete where our bags ,
gathered on our red faces where cheeky smiles .
His objections were overruled .
Dismissed we made our way to mathematics lessons ,
that we would take on another way as we worked out
a part in,
the difference between x plus y all over the square root
of those prime numbers to the power of
whatever you've out smartened .
We all fit in somehow and together we stood in lines
everyday with our backs to the wind as we began to grow .
The school bell rang ,
the streets signs changed ,
traffic signals went up
before you knew it ,
times had changed and it was time for us to go .
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