Country School


Hair cut short, bangs straight across,

Face scrubbed to a rosy gloss,

New tin lunch pail, clutched in her hand,

First day of school, she looked so grand.


In flowered dress, bow tied in the back,

Made with love, trimmed with rickrack..

Mary Janes upon her feet,

Last minute check, so she looked neat.


Long walk up dusty country road,

Being careful as she had been told,

To not scuff up her brand new shoes,

Hold tight to pencil, so not to lose.


Then she saw it straight ahead,

Wooden building painted a bright red,

Where boys played war, armed with a stick,

Their hair smoothed down, except cowlick.


The girls jumped rope, played ‘tag, you’re it’,

Till recess over they all would sit.

 Learn their ABCs and the Golden rule,

In that tiny, one room, country school


©  2003  Loree (Mason) O’Neil

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