End of the Year

The slow repetitive tick tock
Tick tock, tick tock
Of the oval clock
Seems to mock

The silence echoing around
The room of endless sound
I knew they were bound
To leave, she mutters, eyes on the ground

The time just seemed to fly
I'll miss them all and, God knows why,
Marking the work that made me want to die
But i have to release my writers to the sky

And let them learn to flap their wings
And enjoy their 6 week summer flings
And with the autumn september brings
Comes the room filled with the rings

Of laughter and life of my students dear
But then comes the usual nagging fear
Of getting them through another year
If only there was an exam paper seer

Robyn
29/06/2009