Back to School

Yes it's that time of year, usually means little to me now except a silent chuckle. This year the two first grandchildren, Cian and Donnacha, are starting school, today and tomorrow, so it is special.

One of the nice things that has happened at our Knightsbrook readings is the number of residents who read with us. This has grown as the weeks pass and last week I think I only had to read four poems. One resident does a lovely rendition by heart of this Wee Hughie poem by Elizabeth Shane. Most suitable for the day.

Wee Hughie

He’s gone to school, wee Hughie,
An' him not four,
Sure I saw the fright was in him
When he left the door.

But he took a hand o’ Denny,
An’ a hand o’ Dan,
Wi’ Joe’s owld coat upon him –
Och the poor wee man!

He cut the quarest figure,
More stout not thin:
An’ trotting right and steady
Wi’ his toes turned in.

I watched him to the corner
O' the big turf stack,
An' the more his feet went forrit,
Still his head turned back.

I followed to the turnin’
When they passed it by,
God help him he was cryin',
An', maybe, so was I.