My Dragon School

Isaac Raine after Christopher Smart

I will consider the Dragon School,
For I love it in many ways.
For though I am not much good at sport,
The master will lend me his gloves.
For when I forget my pencil case,
The teachers do not scold me, but lend me a biro.

For when I was given too much cabbage,
I was allowed to leave some.
For when I was lost and late for music,
The teacher showed me the way,
For the teachers are kind.

For when I had no plimsolls,
My good friend lent me his,
For when my packed lunch was left at home,
My good friend shared with me.
And when ‘x’ remained unsolved,
The good friend told me ‘nine’.
For the boys are quite kind too.

For when my sandals were grey,
The teachers rang up to say,
Surely I would prefer them brown,
Since I was a sensitive boy.
And the teachers are perceptive.

For if I got good marks in Maths,
I got a smiley face.
And if I got six green dots in Divinity,
I would get a Mars bar.
And when I won a prize outside the school,
I got four boxes of Smarties.
For the Dragon is a generous school.

Yet for all its kind masters and good friends,
The Dragon has bad Dragons.
For on the high jump pitch today,
Boys were stoning the pigeon’s nest,
Boys who laughed when we told them to stop.
And in revenge, I think of their place
In Lord of the Flies.

And with the bad boys,
Come bad teachers.
For there are teachers
Who tell me off in 5 degrees,
For firstly not wearing shoe-laces,
For secondly not wearing the right shoe-laces,
For thirdly wearing a jumper
On a hot day,
For fourthly having a hole in the jumper,
Then fifthly, she tells me to
Get my act together, Raine.

But still I love the Dragon
For it is beautiful,
For there is the tree, worn smooth by swinging
In games of Cops and Robbers.
For there is the tree, which no one can climb
But me and my good friend.
For there is my locker,
With a register of graffiti
On scholarships.
For there is my classroom,
With big windows and curtains
For hiding behind,
In games of Tig.

For there are the fields too.
At which I stare in French,
And the old clock,
At which I stare in Maths,
And the frost on the grass
Outside the classroom,
And the face of my good Friend.
For the Dragon is a beautiful school too.

For these reasons, I love the Dragon,
And all these memories I will have,
For I am leaving my school.