Green

One way to keep pupils attentive is for them to know that their teacher is noting their work ethic, behaviour, whether set objectives have been met; better still, this teacher sometimes reads a poem at the end, based on those observations. One time I was asked if I could write on any topic. I said, ‘Try me.’ This is the choice of one young man:

Green is the colour that Nature chooses
To wear in summer, but then she loses
All her rich garments and carpets the floor.
She rests through the winter before growing more,
In the Spring.

Green is the colour of Grandfather’s flag;
I keep all his photos in a little green bag.
He died well before my memory could
Appreciate his presence; I so wish I could,
Remember him.

Green is the colour of grass in the park
Where, as a small child, I watched fearsome dogs bark.
I remember a boy with bedraggled clothes
And a thick stream of green that ran from his nose,
To his chin.

So green can be beautiful, charming and pure,
It can be full of memories, golden, for sure,
But if green grows from envy, if white clouds turn black,
I can use silver linings to turn the clock back,
To green times.