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On this breezy October morn, I walk
in the swift shadows of cloud-cursing rooks,
watching the world wake on the horizon.
All houses wherein men have lived and died
Are haunted houses. Through the open doors
The harmless phantoms on their errands glide,
With feet that make no sound upon the floors.
We meet them at the doorway, on the stair,
Along the passages they come and go,
Impalpable impressions on the air,
A sense of something moving to and fro.
As a primary school teacher I often hear jokes about my job.
So I'd like to share things about that with you.
[i]TEACHER : Marko, what is the chemical formula for water ?
MARKO : h, i, j, k, l, m, n, o
TEACHER : What are you talking about ?
MARKO : Yesterday you said it was H to O.
Post edited by Lynne on