Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
TerryCollettPoems
Helen stared at the playground: what did Mr Finn mean about the Plaque of London? She asked me. It was an outbreak of the bubonic plague between 1665-6, I said. What's bubonic? she said. An infection I think, I said, Mr Finn said it was spread by fleas on rats. She looked at me how comes you hear things he says and I don't, she said. I love history and listen more I guess, I said. She looked at her hands through her thick lens glasses: I’m not clever, she said, history bores me. Never mind, I said, you must be good at something. Don't think I am, she said. You're good at needle work with Mrs Murphy, I said, I saw the thing you took home. She was silent for a few moment Mum said it was good, Helen said. It was, I said. She smiled: guess I am good at something, she said. The bell rang for the end of morning break. Right back to class, I said, geography now with Mr Good. She stopped smiling and pouted. We went back into school. I’ll never be clever, she said, always be a fool. You're good and pretty, I said. She smiled going red.
0
Jan 6, 2017
Jan 6, 2017 at 3:00 PM UTC
BENNY AND HELEN 1955.
Helen stared at the playground: what did Mr Finn mean about the Plaque of London? She asked me. It was an outbreak of the bubonic plague between 1665-6, I said. What's bubonic? she said. An infection I think, I said, Mr Finn said it was spread by fleas on rats. She looked at me how comes you hear things he says and I don't, she said. I love history and listen more I guess, I said. She looked at her hands through her thick lens glasses: I’m not clever, she said, history bores me. Never mind, I said, you must be good at something. Don't think I am, she said. You're good at needle work with Mrs Murphy, I said, I saw the thing you took home. She was silent for a few moment Mum said it was good, Helen said. It was, I said. She smiled: guess I am good at something, she said. The bell rang for the end of morning break. Right back to class, I said, geography now with Mr Good. She stopped smiling and pouted. We went back into school. I’ll never be clever, she said, always be a fool. You're good and pretty, I said. She smiled going red.
A BOY AND GIRL AT SCHOOL IN 1955.
#girl#boy#school#1955
TerryCollett
Written by
TerryCollett
78/M
Jan 6, 2017
Jan 6, 2017 at 3:00 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem