ECHOES

The school bell rings its message out,
it’s home time, mum and tea.
The subsequent stampede resounds
with cries of “Wait for me.”

This kaleidoscope of infants,
their clothes in dis-array,
are gathered up by doting mums
and slowly led away.

When all have gone, do daily sounds
still echo through the halls;
come floating from the rafters
and bounce around the walls?

Does Miss Payne’s weary voice call out
“No running on the stairs”
and all those feet yet clatter
through the hall and into prayers?

Does pushing, shoving anarchy
and voices, shrill and high,
stay still, for just a moment
as a teacher passes by

then rise again, discordant tones
of chair legs fiddle-squeak,
a timpani of desk lids;
trumpet voices as they speak
to long lost friends across the room,
whom every day they see,
tuning up these instruments
for the school cacophony?

A symphony that does not end, at last,
with rapt applause
but by the teacher entering
and closing of the doors.
The encore…”Children, settle down now,
Tommy, no more talk,”
the fidget-laden silence
and the scratch of teacher’s chalk.

© Marion Sharville

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About Marion Sharville

A website of Poems and Short stories
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