School Days

When I was but a little tot
T'was like a "flittermouse",
And really never gave much thought
About the old school house.

But on my last trip to my "Home"
I drove to old "Fohs Hall",
And through each room there, I did roam
With memories in them all.

My first-grade class was on the right
When entering through front doors,
My second-grade was full of light
With still the wooden floors.

The basement with it's dreary halls
Was where the third-grade went,
The paint was chipped on all the walls
In the air, a musty scent.

My fourth and fifth, on second floor
Was like most all the rest,
With plain, bare floors and splintered door
And old "ink-well" type desks.

The basement held the rest-rooms too
There's where the stories fly,
To get a "flush" the seats came down
And boy were they high!

There aren't too many schools like this
The teachers too, were rare,
And as I fondly reminisce
I yearn to be back there!

~ author ~
Donna Lilly Marcus