The English Teacher

The English Teacher

I’m a well-versed academic – some may call me erudite;
My grasp of the tongue (as yet unsung), is ostensibly polite.
In my uniform of Harris Tweed, I’m the model of restraint
But Honey, I’ve got news for you – Mills & Boon, I ain’t!

I’ll meet you, greet you, seat you – I’ll shake your hand – and then;
I’ll check your etymology and mark you out of ten;
And when you take the practical, each dash, slash, hash and stop,
Must cut and thrust with passion – with tenderness, on top.

This pedagogue has dialogue to make your grammar blush;
Metamorphosising metaphors – I’m Song without the Thrush:
I’m words as loud as action – I’m a win without a bet;
I’m a simile the like of which you’ve never, ever met.

Should you ask which poets I would have between my sheets
I’d confide my secret fantasy for tantric sex with Keats;
Should you still insist on living men, for fumbles in the dark,
I’d say Hegley (regularly) and Mr Cooper-Clarke.

And if I were a novel, I’d be quite a tour de force:
There’s nothing I like more than intellectual intercourse.
I’ll have you read me eagerly; I’ll have you quote me clear:
You’ll know that “Wham, bam, thank you Maam”, is onomatopoeia.

So, be my rhyming couplet – propose in prose, not terse;
And together, we’ll live literally – for letter – and for verse.

© Theresa van Straten 2005 All Rights Reserved


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>