The pompous teacher fills the classroom full of fire
shots ring out as bunsen burners take light
like Parkland, but was it only in her mind?
flames reduce, the class is quiet
measurements are taken
for the experiment.
“Only you and I would remember that there was World War II,” the teacher said.
She did not know what to do.
She had been trapped in that same room
two years ago while
a massacre raged in another state.
Shots ring out at noon, the limo
drags along.
“Get down!” People all around
standing
waving
as he crumples by her side,
red roses, thorns and leaves
between them.
Sun heavy with heat
There will be more. Get out!
He watches her walk her little son to
St. David’s School
from his room on the second floor
where he is incarcerated by his parents,
on methadone.
Not far away, she watches the Zapruder at the
St. Charles Theatre
one showing only, shut down the next day
a secret none would even whisper about again
except for her…
the navy limo, golden cufflink, that smile
first seen in Philadelphia two years before.
the blood, white flesh
flying backward,
life to death in one moment…
He always gave her roses on that day
“They’ll die,” she said.
Their roots are cut away.
Besides, I don’t like red roses.”
That didn’t matter, he would say.
They married on that day, two years later
the minstrel and his Egyptian queen,
to stop the tumult in the vortex
to return what was to what had once been
But that all came apart
and in a public feud
She held her grace, but he
was in a vile mood
over the money he had lost
and how his name
was dragged through the mud.
All that was secret
was coming out
and all because of her…
She left the classroom and the school that day
breathing relief seeing the flag waving
cheerfully at full staff,
its scarlet stripes offset
by blue and white
no red roses today, she said
not today…
https://dylagence.wordpress.com/2020/03/13/days-of-red-roses/
On Thursday, November 18, 2021 at 7:02:56 AM UTC-5, pamel...@gmail.com wrote:
The pompous teacher fills the classroom full of fire
shots ring out as bunsen burners take light
like Parkland, but was it only in her mind?
flames reduce, the class is quiet
measurements are taken
for the experiment.
“Only you and I would remember that there was World War II,” the teacher said.
She did not know what to do.
She had been trapped in that same room
two years ago while
a massacre raged in another state.
Shots ring out at noon, the limo
drags along.
“Get down!” People all around
standing
waving
as he crumples by her side,
red roses, thorns and leaves
between them.
Sun heavy with heat
There will be more. Get out!
He watches her walk her little son to
St. David’s School
from his room on the second floor
where he is incarcerated by his parents,
on methadone.
Not far away, she watches the Zapruder at the
St. Charles Theatre
one showing only, shut down the next day
a secret none would even whisper about again
except for her…
the navy limo, golden cufflink, that smile
first seen in Philadelphia two years before.
the blood, white flesh
flying backward,
life to death in one moment…
He always gave her roses on that day
“They’ll die,” she said.
Their roots are cut away.
Besides, I don’t like red roses.”
That didn’t matter, he would say.
They married on that day, two years later
the minstrel and his Egyptian queen,
to stop the tumult in the vortex
to return what was to what had once been
But that all came apart
and in a public feud
She held her grace, but he
was in a vile mood
over the money he had lost
and how his name
was dragged through the mud.
All that was secret
was coming out
and all because of her…
Thank you...She left the classroom and the school that day
breathing relief seeing the flag waving
cheerfully at full staff,
its scarlet stripes offset
by blue and white
no red roses today, she said
not today…
https://dylagence.wordpress.com/2020/03/13/days-of-red-roses/Reading, and enjoying... TY...
On Thursday, November 18, 2021 at 4:15:00 PM UTC-6, genera...@gmail.com wrote:
On Thursday, November 18, 2021 at 7:02:56 AM UTC-5, pamel...@gmail.com wrote:
The pompous teacher fills the classroom full of fire
shots ring out as bunsen burners take light
like Parkland, but was it only in her mind?
flames reduce, the class is quiet
measurements are taken
for the experiment.
“Only you and I would remember that there was World War II,” the teacher said.
She did not know what to do.
She had been trapped in that same room
two years ago while
a massacre raged in another state.
Shots ring out at noon, the limo
drags along.
“Get down!” People all around
standing
waving
as he crumples by her side,
red roses, thorns and leaves
between them.
Sun heavy with heat
There will be more. Get out!
He watches her walk her little son to
St. David’s School
from his room on the second floor
where he is incarcerated by his parents,
on methadone.
Not far away, she watches the Zapruder at the
St. Charles Theatre
one showing only, shut down the next day
a secret none would even whisper about again
except for her…
the navy limo, golden cufflink, that smile
first seen in Philadelphia two years before.
the blood, white flesh
flying backward,
life to death in one moment…
He always gave her roses on that day
“They’ll die,” she said.
Their roots are cut away.
Besides, I don’t like red roses.”
That didn’t matter, he would say.
They married on that day, two years later
the minstrel and his Egyptian queen,
to stop the tumult in the vortex
to return what was to what had once been
But that all came apart
and in a public feud
She held her grace, but he
was in a vile mood
over the money he had lost
and how his name
was dragged through the mud.
All that was secret
was coming out
and all because of her…
She left the classroom and the school that day
breathing relief seeing the flag waving
cheerfully at full staff,
its scarlet stripes offset
by blue and white
no red roses today, she said
not today…
Thank you...https://dylagence.wordpress.com/2020/03/13/days-of-red-roses/Reading, and enjoying... TY...
Hint: there are three couples in the poem...
On Thursday, November 18, 2021 at 4:15:00 PM UTC-6, genera...@gmail.com wrote:
On Thursday, November 18, 2021 at 7:02:56 AM UTC-5, pamel...@gmail.com wrote:
The pompous teacher fills the classroom full of fire
shots ring out as bunsen burners take light
like Parkland, but was it only in her mind?
flames reduce, the class is quiet
measurements are taken
for the experiment.
“Only you and I would remember that there was World War II,” the teacher said.
She did not know what to do.
She had been trapped in that same room
two years ago while
a massacre raged in another state.
Shots ring out at noon, the limo
drags along.
“Get down!” People all around
standing
waving
as he crumples by her side,
red roses, thorns and leaves
between them.
Sun heavy with heat
There will be more. Get out!
He watches her walk her little son to
St. David’s School
from his room on the second floor
where he is incarcerated by his parents,
on methadone.
Not far away, she watches the Zapruder at the
St. Charles Theatre
one showing only, shut down the next day
a secret none would even whisper about again
except for her…
the navy limo, golden cufflink, that smile
first seen in Philadelphia two years before.
the blood, white flesh
flying backward,
life to death in one moment…
He always gave her roses on that day
“They’ll die,” she said.
Their roots are cut away.
Besides, I don’t like red roses.”
That didn’t matter, he would say.
They married on that day, two years later
the minstrel and his Egyptian queen,
to stop the tumult in the vortex
to return what was to what had once been
But that all came apart
and in a public feud
She held her grace, but he
was in a vile mood
over the money he had lost
and how his name
was dragged through the mud.
All that was secret
was coming out
and all because of her…
She left the classroom and the school that day
breathing relief seeing the flag waving
cheerfully at full staff,
its scarlet stripes offset
by blue and white
no red roses today, she said
not today…
Thank you...https://dylagence.wordpress.com/2020/03/13/days-of-red-roses/Reading, and enjoying... TY...
Hint: there are three couples in the poem...
On Thursday, November 18, 2021 at 4:15:00 PM UTC-6, genera...@gmail.com wrote:
On Thursday, November 18, 2021 at 7:02:56 AM UTC-5, pamel...@gmail.com wrote:
The pompous teacher fills the classroom full of fire
shots ring out as bunsen burners take light
like Parkland, but was it only in her mind?
flames reduce, the class is quiet
measurements are taken
for the experiment.
“Only you and I would remember that there was World War II,” the teacher said.
She did not know what to do.
She had been trapped in that same room
two years ago while
a massacre raged in another state.
Shots ring out at noon, the limo
drags along.
“Get down!” People all around
standing
waving
as he crumples by her side,
red roses, thorns and leaves
between them.
Sun heavy with heat
There will be more. Get out!
He watches her walk her little son to
St. David’s School
from his room on the second floor
where he is incarcerated by his parents,
on methadone.
Not far away, she watches the Zapruder at the
St. Charles Theatre
one showing only, shut down the next day
a secret none would even whisper about again
except for her…
the navy limo, golden cufflink, that smile
first seen in Philadelphia two years before.
the blood, white flesh
flying backward,
life to death in one moment…
He always gave her roses on that day
“They’ll die,” she said.
Their roots are cut away.
Besides, I don’t like red roses.”
That didn’t matter, he would say.
They married on that day, two years later
the minstrel and his Egyptian queen,
to stop the tumult in the vortex
to return what was to what had once been
But that all came apart
and in a public feud
She held her grace, but he
was in a vile mood
over the money he had lost
and how his name
was dragged through the mud.
All that was secret
was coming out
and all because of her…
She left the classroom and the school that day
breathing relief seeing the flag waving
cheerfully at full staff,
its scarlet stripes offset
by blue and white
no red roses today, she said
not today…
Thank you...https://dylagence.wordpress.com/2020/03/13/days-of-red-roses/Reading, and enjoying... TY...
Hint: there are three couples in the poem...
The pompous teacher fills the classroom full of fire
shots ring out as bunsen burners take light
like Parkland, but was it only in her mind?
flames reduce, the class is quiet
measurements are taken
for the experiment.
“Only you and I would remember that there was World War II,” the teacher said.
She did not know what to do.
She had been trapped in that same room
two years ago while
a massacre raged in another state.
Shots ring out at noon, the limo
drags along.
“Get down!” People all around
standing
waving
as he crumples by her side,
red roses, thorns and leaves
between them.
Sun heavy with heat
There will be more. Get out!
He watches her walk her little son to
St. David’s School
from his room on the second floor
where he is incarcerated by his parents,
on methadone.
Not far away, she watches the Zapruder at the
St. Charles Theatre
one showing only, shut down the next day
a secret none would even whisper about again
except for her…
the navy limo, golden cufflink, that smile
first seen in Philadelphia two years before.
the blood, white flesh
flying backward,
life to death in one moment…
He always gave her roses on that day
“They’ll die,” she said.
Their roots are cut away.
Besides, I don’t like red roses.”
That didn’t matter, he would say.
They married on that day, two years later
the minstrel and his Egyptian queen,
to stop the tumult in the vortex
to return what was to what had once been
But that all came apart
and in a public feud
She held her grace, but he
was in a vile mood
over the money he had lost
and how his name
was dragged through the mud.
All that was secret
was coming out
and all because of her…
She left the classroom and the school that day
breathing relief seeing the flag waving
cheerfully at full staff,
its scarlet stripes offset
by blue and white
no red roses today, she said
not today…
https://dylagence.wordpress.com/2020/03/13/days-of-red-roses/
The pompous teacher fills the classroom full of fire
shots ring out as bunsen burners take light
like Parkland, but was it only in her mind?
flames reduce, the class is quiet
measurements are taken
for the experiment.
“Only you and I would remember that there was World War II,” the teacher said.
She did not know what to do.
She had been trapped in that same room
two years ago while
a massacre raged in another state.
Shots ring out at noon, the limo
drags along.
“Get down!” People all around
standing
waving
as he crumples by her side,
red roses, thorns and leaves
between them.
Sun heavy with heat
There will be more. Get out!
He watches her walk her little son to
St. David’s School
from his room on the second floor
where he is incarcerated by his parents,
on methadone.
Not far away, she watches the Zapruder at the
St. Charles Theatre
one showing only, shut down the next day
a secret none would even whisper about again
except for her…
the navy limo, golden cufflink, that smile
first seen in Philadelphia two years before.
the blood, white flesh
flying backward,
life to death in one moment…
He always gave her roses on that day
“They’ll die,” she said.
Their roots are cut away.
Besides, I don’t like red roses.”
That didn’t matter, he would say.
They married on that day, two years later
the minstrel and his Egyptian queen,
to stop the tumult in the vortex
to return what was to what had once been
But that all came apart
and in a public feud
She held her grace, but he
was in a vile mood
over the money he had lost
and how his name
was dragged through the mud.
All that was secret
was coming out
and all because of her…
She left the classroom and the school that day
breathing relief seeing the flag waving
cheerfully at full staff,
its scarlet stripes offset
by blue and white
no red roses today, she said
not today…
https://dylagence.wordpress.com/2020/03/13/days-of-red-roses/
| Sysop: | Keyop |
|---|---|
| Location: | Huddersfield, West Yorkshire, UK |
| Users: | 296 |
| Nodes: | 16 (2 / 14) |
| Uptime: | 43:24:03 |
| Calls: | 6,648 |
| Files: | 12,193 |
| Messages: | 5,329,636 |