Belt up Bob the Builder
Pipe down Postman Pat
Thomas...a talking engine!
We've had quite enough of that
Time for you to realise
You're oiks...you're poor...you're thick!
Each day you'll chant some poetry
That should do the trick...
Yellow car...hat with a bell
Won't break your plebian coma
You will repeat a Noddy, see!
The one that was penned by Homer
Can't tell a Verb from a Conjunction?
Despite the lessons which you sat in
You'll never get to Eton
If you don't know your Latin
Forget Three Bears or Jack and Jill
And every childish story
You must rehearse this noble verse...
'Dulce et Decorum est, Pro Patria Mori'
'The Charge of the Light Brigade'
British lads rode to death or glory
No limbs blown off or screams of pain
That would be just too gory
You are now five...you're far too old
To be goggling at the telly
So sit up straight...repeat after Miss
As she recites from Keats and Shelley
Time to get your coats and trot off home
To your Daddy and your Mummy
But, as Larkin said, "They fuck you up..."
So you end up just a dummy
The Gove's Train just goes clattering on
As the Night Mail crossed the border
Issuing clouds of stale hot air
With every silly order
If, like that train, it brought ideas
Steaming from its funnel
Instead of gazing resolutely backwards
As it reverses up its own anal tunnel!
© Peter Flint
Schools poetry plan in national curriculum shake-up
Quiz: how much poetry do you know by heart?
Peter is 77, belongs to Rossington Writers' Group, Doncaster and writes short stories and poems for his grandkids. He taught for forty years...mainly English.