I Remember – written by Cynthia Whittle  1957 – 1962


I remember

          monday mornings

                   scurrying up the short cut,

                                      late as usual,

                   past the post office

                       on my way to high school,

                   past the Java plum tree whose

                       purple fruit would stain your teeth,


and I remember

          voices raised in praise

              and girls in navy pleated skirts

                  and fresh white blouses,

                   with pious smiles

                  and mischief in their eyes,

                             assembled in the hall


yes, I remember

          ink wells, and fountain pens

              before the ballpoints came and wrecked

                   our handwriting so we are told.

          and wet blotting paper stuffed

             in old jam jars, proudly sprouting

                   corn or pea,

          and cramming Jervis french

                   irregular verbs,

              and latin with Pliney,

          daydreaming about Beryl’s fudge

              and groundnut sugar cakes

                   so sweet

                             so oh delicious!


and I remember

          scented flowers


          pink and purple bouganvillea,


                   the pouii trees,

          outside our gates like faithful sentinels,

              let drop a rain of yellow flowers

              on all who pass beneath,


and I remember


                   and grammar school boys

          approaching with deliberate step

                   to ask you to dance,




                   it was all over,

                             only memories left of

                                      high school days