Chalky
Dead accurate he was
with a piece of chalk,
hit you wherever you sat:
“Bonk!”
right between
the eyes.
“Pay attention, boy.”
“I was paying attention, sir.”
“Then repeat what I just said.”
And the boy repeated it,
word for word.
“Sorry.
Here, have a peppermint.”
“No thank you, sir.”
“Guess and how, then.”
He put his hand in his pocket
and pulled out a handful of coins.
Sooner or later
we all tried,
but nobody ever guessed
how much money
he held in his hand.
rogermoorepoet 
Ouch! Good thing he was really paying attention!
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I was, I was. But I never knew how much money he had in his pocket. And he never told. Roger.
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Hahaha! I should have known you were the boy in the story!
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I think of myself as the boy “telling” the story. Alas, there were so many of us, and not all had the right answer at the tip of their tongues. Result: Latin irregular verbs: bendo, wackere, ouchi, sorebum. They don’t do that in progressive schools anymore. I hope you read and understand Macarronic Latin, the only one I ever learned. Roger.
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A very interesting memory!! I used many pieces of chalk, but never threw one at a student!!
Dwight
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We had a couple of masters who were dead accurate. Those little small pieces that always lie around the bottom of junior school chalkboards, too small to use, too much to waste. … He waited till the heads were down, actually. And never missed, never wasted a piece of ammunition. Of course, if a sixth sense cause you to look up …
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Ha Ha! In today’s society, he would be sued by the parent and looking for a job!
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“Those days are past now, and in the past they must remain …” Flower of Scotland. In those good old days, the masters also had license to flog the boys with bamboo canes. And in private schools, the parents paid for the privilege of having their kids flogged. I think our children / grand-children are better off without such treatment.
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I agree! There is a line of disrespect and abuse that gets crossed in these situations!
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Hi Roger. Cute poem! I just put my very first poem ever on my new blog — http://kentuckyangelfliesagain.wordpress.com I wrote it in the first grade and believe me I was very intelligent at that age! Or maybe I mean gullible! Mom told us we could catch birds by sprinkling salt on their tails, so we all spent the summers chasing birds with our own individual salt shakers — but that’s not what my pome was about. Just an aside to amuse and inform. Have a good week! Angie
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Hi Angie: thanks for commenting. I’ll click on your blog and follow along. All best wishes. Roger.
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