My Grammar School Daze
The sound of pleasured industry humming,
in tune with the Pyestock thrumming.
From after the nine oclock assembly, at the days start
til the final bell, for the hasty four oclock depart.
With all the boys, at our desks in the classes,
working hard to gain our G.C.E. passes.
In English Language and Pure Mathematics, so traditional.
Physics, Chemistry, French; Applied and Pure Maths Additional.
Thanks to Trunky, Beefy, and Little Dick,
Eli, Nuncs, Cake and The Pr Pr Prod.
Homework set by teachers, demanding.
Friday afternoons; C.C.F. drill shouts, commanding?
Unmatched wood bookends, a too easily satisfied disgrace.
Once around the football pitch, before a cross country race!
No choice but to participate in all the sports,
mandatory for shapes and sizes, of all sorts.
Not an ace footballer like North, Cooper or McBride.
My sporting prowess? The daily three mile total, bicycle ride.
Suffering the trauma of the after games and P.E. shower.
Or unjustly detained for an occasional extra hour.
Mullins Sister; ubiquitous? Dodds mind; hard to understand?
The Fouracre orange Groves or Holden a bridge hand?
Unsuccessful attempts with first shave razors.
Why were Prefects in special ties and blazers?
Only able to mix with high school girls, by collaborating,
in choirs, sixth form dance lessons and debating.
The girls from A.C.H.S. provided all the glamour,
but all the brains came from Farnborough Grammar!
© Paul Alexander Lamont : 2010
Tone Deaf (but A-Sharp Major)
Bugles blaring and drums drumming.
Hardly, “pleasured industry humming”?
Outside the art room marching up and down,
exacerbating Captain Foster’s scowling frown!
Twirling and Swirling the Mace, well skilled
the boots of Paparezzi; more than filled;
by Drum Major E. Tony Waller.
“Band; by the Left; Quick March!”, was his holler?
© Paul Alexander Lamont : 2012Return to Pauls Memory page