by Loise Pinkerton Miller Fritz
Loise Pinkerton Miller Fritz
The Old Recitation Bench
`Twas just an Old recitation bench,
Barren of paint and defaced,
And it sat outside the little white school,
A “toss-out” of by-gone days.
For the dear little white school house
And all the contents therein
Were ruled “out-of date” and auctioned off,
But the bench didn’t bring a thing.
True, the auctioneer asked the bidding crowd
To give an offer fair,
But since no one saw any worth in it,
`Twas unsold and discarded there.
And then in the glow of the after years,
While strolling the old school grounds,
That little old recitation bench
Beneath much debris I found.
The names carved upon the weathered wood
Struck a note of memory,
And the wads of gum beneath the seat
Brought a tinge of childish glee.
The lower half of the seat was rough; The upper half was smooth,
As from the head to the tail of the class
The scholars usually moved!
For a moment only humorous thoughts
Were sketched in my memory;
But then I seem to faintly recall
How shaky our knees would be
When we’d leave our desks and march up front
As the teacher called our grade,
To sit on the old recitation bench
And recite the progress we made.
`Twas just an old recitation bench,
barren of paint and defaced.
But to me it was a treasure chest
Of memories of old school days.