old school…



feet tread the sward of ageless path

bearing small souls and well-wrapped peats

towards the stone faced building


feat endured by tiny figures who

hug the hill watched from the sea below

as elders disappear behind the rocky pass


a last few quiet words of Gaelic tongue

before the school gate’s firmly shut

and English sprays forth from every one


until a final flicker from the schoolroom fire

signals time for little toes returning miles

homeward glad sounds echo across the sky





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