The Secrecy Of Literature

lights out
rattle rattle of rosary beads
click
goes the door

the night begins

nothing as exciting
as reading by torchlight
for an inquisitve  child
eager to learn everything
not on the school curriculum
lost in the adventures
of the scarlet pimpernel
in love with jane eyre's
mr rochester
wandering the moors
with heathcliff and kathy

eyes hanging out on stalks
from the book covered in brown paper
which cynthia williams
found in her father's library
smuggled  into school and passed 'round
to the selected few

the subject of much explosive giggling
secret notes  passed in latin class
to the drone
of mother loyola's translations
of caesar's gallic wars
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

sorry cynthia
i have broken
our vow
i know i was sworn
to an oath of secrecy

decades have flown
tempus fugit
along with  mother loyola






still hear the squealing scraping
deliberate dragging of chairs
across the wooden floor
by naughty girls
"sedete in silencio" girls
ad majorem dei gloria,





still have fond memories
of  our latin class
still have all the drawings
and comments you use to scrawl
all over my text book
(in atrocious hilarious latin)
best wishes


Midweek Motif  -  PU