Here I stand in the old school yard and think of yesteryear,
Echoes of the past within my head as I wipe away a tear.
I feel the presence of long ago at this familiar scene,
Surrounded by giant Beeches and fields of emerald green.
The old School House is still here well built in granite stone,
But no longer are there children and now it stands alone.
That great oak door is still in place on ornamented hinge,
Wooden eaves above look down with carved and fretted fringe.
Here I’d sit below the trees and eat my little meal,
They gather up the beech nuts which I did gently peel.
But my clearest recollection is that first eventful day,
My Sister led me to the door and I didn’t want to stay.
Gone now are all the children and the Master is at rest,
It is only now I know, having been here I was blest.
Monty Alexander 18.4.96