Growing Up Poem by Rod Morris

Looking back on those days of my childhood
At those sights and sounds making life good.
The smell of fresh bread as I waken from bed,
Wrap up warm; time to head for the shed.

Don’t make a row; milk the house-cow,
Back to the kitchen; breakfast time now.
Hurry don’t cuss; miss the school-bus.
Got your school lunch? mornings a fuss.

Cob-webbed carpets of dew all a glisten
A symphony of sound; as I listen.
Kids laugh and yell till they hear the bell.
Hard wooden desk; only feature; inkwell.

Captured in this dwelling; its time for spelling.
You daren’t not talk; or here take the chalk,
Fifty lines, do not talk; please write it faster.
Learn lessons lad, or next time headmaster.

At last high school; learnt not to fool,
Now knowledge is; the should have tool.
To gain a post; earn peoples trust,
Education gives one thrust.

Time and teaching run their course,
With flag unfurled reach for the world.
Into the great unknown; young bird has flown,
You’ve joined the great work force.