I might just become a wizard.
If you don’t know what this means I might be speaking to the wrong crowd (and yes I appreciate it’s a pretty raunchy term, but you get my meaning). But it has puzzled me for a while because I’d always thought I was enough of a romantic that this wouldn’t happen. I’m gushy and emotional enough, I’m sensitive enough, I’m not afraid of commitment… what gives? Continue reading “on wizardry”
A poem for an old English teacher of mine, Mrs Stevens. As I understand it she passed away in the first week of May 2016.
When I heard you’d gone, the sky was blue.
Just that morning it was a rainstorm,
Mayhem, parents calling,
Observatory be damned –
Kids sulking, tempers strained
We want to go home!
Focus! Sit down!
Why are they only telling us now?
Then I heard you’d gone.
How many times did you have to do this?
How many years since you’d heard us sulk?
I wrote a quick eulogy for you,
To my kids –
A pang of guilt – why should I gain from your death?
But the kids are home now, the staff room’s quiet
I’m tired, I think about you
I go to the window and look out
And I remember
The sky was blue when I heard you’d gone.
Remember, My Lord 