The Old Schoolhouse Poem by Jim Scallan

Once proud stone walls now choked with tendrils of ivy,
Gaping windows stare forlornly at the leaden sky.
Missing slates let in the winter rain
To trickle slowly through the broken door
As I watched the schoolhouse cry.

No company now, in its decay,
No children grace its once-warm room,
As it transforms to an empty shell
Silent and lonely,
Cold as the tomb.

The comfort it once gave on a cold winter morn
To father and son in their turn,
Passed on all it had to give
And showed lessons to be learned.

The old desks are gone now
Sold to collectors of the past
The blackboard remains unused in years
Exposed to winters icy blast.

The floorboards are cracked or missing
That once felt the tread of hob-nailed boot,
The spaces open to the sky
Has alders taking root.

We’ve all grown up and moved away
But it was always there
The anchor of time and solid,
Four ancient walls and square.

As I recall my younger days
I accept the fact of growing old,
But I’m glad I saw again the old school
Rekindled memories I can hold.

Sunlight falls across the window panes
Sparkling from broken glass into my eyes,
As the emotions of childhood were rewarded.
My schoolhouse said ‘Goodbye’!
My eyes filled up and tears ran down
To see the school in its final pain,
It, like me, a derelict,
As we share the winter rain.