Who ever thinks of Desks
in a classroom at night,
the moon shines brightly
thru long rectangular windows,
reflecting off the wood-grain,
Neat little coffins lined up
in neat little rows, waiting,
All waiting for the ressurection,
For the morning sunlight,
For the voices of the children.
This is still my favourite one of all your poems so good great read brings me straight back to my classroom and those neat little coffins
An extraordinary take on an an ordinary thing. A fine poem.10.
I love the line neat little coffins lined up in neat little rows.A lovely read Paddy well done
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is still my favourite one of all your poems so good great read brings me straight back to my classroom and those neat little coffins