Retirement

A Typical Example of Retirement Poem

A little poem - an Ode to Gwyneth,
Whose teaching career has almost finished,
At Parkland's School, she has seen plenty,
(She's been there since the turn of the century).

A teacher who offers just a little more glamour,
And charms everyone with her warm friendly manner,
A lady who longs for the warm summer sun,
The sits in it at lunchtime 'till quarter past one.

She spends her time working hard in the garden,
(Not running the streets like old Mrs Barton.)
And even if you're only a little astute,
You'll know that she favours a white linen suit.

Never a moan or a whinge or a rant,
She wiggles away tension with a quick belly dance.
And nipping back home isn't really a sin,
To turn off her hot brush 'cause she's left it plugged in.

And it doesn't really matter if a few minutes late,
If the bell went ten minutes before reaching the gate,
If you have to clear up a bottle of milk,
It isn't worth crying over such things that are split.

Now many children have passed Gwyneth's way,
A few to remember on this, fine summer's day
There's young Jason Bodding the strangest of things,
Who grew up to be Gollum in lord of the Rings.

Then another most memorable child Daniel Barroll,
Dressed in a lovely pixie apparel.
Who misused his drum, then nodded his bell,
And sent poor Gwyneth into nativity hell.

Still Master Barroll, at the small risk of tedium,
Made a spectacular break for freedom.
A slippery character, difficult to catch,
Shot down the hall's inspection hatch.

Then there was the Johnson's first born - Derek,
With the intellect of a rather special needs feret,
Who's biggest need was his remarkable mother,
With a negative IQ surpassed by no other.

There was young Joshua Clayton - a child lacking drive,
Who had used up all effort at the young age of five,
Desperate measures were needed in Gwyneth's plight,
Took hold of his wrist and forced him to write.

There are too many others to discuss in one night,
Like young Katy Brierland who enjoyed a good bite.
Or the girl whose drunken mother threw up on the floor,
Or her drink driving Dad, who fell foul of the law.

But what now for Gwyneth? What will fill her time?
Will she sit in her garden all giddy with wine?
And Parkland's school, do you think she will miss it?
And will local wine bars get several more visits?

There's one thing for sure, We'll miss Mrs Benance,
Not seeing her daily will be our shared penance.
So off into the sunset, goes the most glamorous of women,
To enjoy the fruits of her labour, in rather posh Lytham.