Suttons Primary
Suttons Primary
Day 2 of NaPoWriMo: write a poem about a specific place — a particular house or store or school or office - incorporating concrete details to bring it alive for other people.
We walked from Rosebank Avenue
First with mum, later safe with friends,
From home, through the cul-de-sac of bungalows
(Where, third one in, my mate Kevin lived)
To get to school along a stony path,
Across "the field" - the once brave Hornchurch airfield -
Site of scraped knees, summer wildflowers,
Waist-high grasses perfect for flattening out into hidden dens,
Past St George's Hospital entrance with its ticking clocking-in clock:
Distractions, each tempting us to be late.
Throughout most of the 60s,
Us impressionable young children, walked twice daily
To Suttons Primary in nearby Hornchurch.
Wooden-built five years before the war,
It was never meant to be permanent
But stood strong, solid, functional
Far longer than expected.
Dark brown, long fronted, single storied,
Half a dozen steps leading up from tarmac playground
To each white classroom door. To either side,
White-framed, small square-paned windows
Child-sized, ideal for staring out of on dreary afternoons.
I always intended to go back,
To retrace my steps across the field
Past gardened bungalows, the old hospital.
But I left it far too late.
Our dens now lie under a 90s housing estate,
The school itself rebuilt in 2017
The new building stark and angular
An efficient, modern school, Ofsted rated "good".
Perhaps it's just as well.
My memories can stay intact
In a haze of rosy summer days,
Spent crossing the field to school.
© Copyright 2020. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved
Day 2 of NaPoWriMo: write a poem about a specific place — a particular house or store or school or office - incorporating concrete details to bring it alive for other people.
We walked from Rosebank Avenue
First with mum, later safe with friends,
From home, through the cul-de-sac of bungalows
(Where, third one in, my mate Kevin lived)
To get to school along a stony path,
Across "the field" - the once brave Hornchurch airfield -
Site of scraped knees, summer wildflowers,
Waist-high grasses perfect for flattening out into hidden dens,
Past St George's Hospital entrance with its ticking clocking-in clock:
Distractions, each tempting us to be late.
Throughout most of the 60s,
Us impressionable young children, walked twice daily
To Suttons Primary in nearby Hornchurch.
Wooden-built five years before the war,
It was never meant to be permanent
But stood strong, solid, functional
Far longer than expected.
Dark brown, long fronted, single storied,
Half a dozen steps leading up from tarmac playground
To each white classroom door. To either side,
White-framed, small square-paned windows
Child-sized, ideal for staring out of on dreary afternoons.
I always intended to go back,
To retrace my steps across the field
Past gardened bungalows, the old hospital.
But I left it far too late.
Our dens now lie under a 90s housing estate,
The school itself rebuilt in 2017
The new building stark and angular
An efficient, modern school, Ofsted rated "good".
Perhaps it's just as well.
My memories can stay intact
In a haze of rosy summer days,
Spent crossing the field to school.
© Copyright 2020. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved
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