FOR PHIL WOOLARD

So the othewr day in English we read a pem called "elegy for Jane (my student thrown from a horse")

"Elegy For Jane

(My student, thrown by a horse)

I remember the neckcurls, limp and damp as tendrils;
And her quick look, a sidelong pickerel smile;
And how, once started into talk, the light syllables leaped for her.
And she balanced in the delight of her thought,
A wren, happy, tail into the wind,
Her song trembling the twigs and small branches.
The shade sang with her;
The leaves, their whispers turned to kissing,
And the mould sang in the bleached valleys under the rose.

Oh, when she was sad, she cast herself down into such a pure depth,
Even a father could not find her:
Scraping her cheek against straw,
Stirring the clearest water.
My sparrow, you are not here,
Waiting like a fern, making a spiney shadow.
The sides of wet stones cannot console me,
Nor the moss, wound with the last light.

If only I could nudge you from this sleep,
My maimed darling, my skittery pigeon.
Over this damp grave I speak the words of my love:
I, with no rights in this matter,
Neither father nor lover."

- Theodore Roethke


i was inspired to write a poem in responce. how i came up with this poem: i imagined what if i tied suddenly ? which teacher would i want to write to? simple: Woolard (My tennis coach/world history teacher). so if/when i die i want woolard to read this.


To My Teacher by Lisa Sawyer

Everything you did,
I appreciated.
All your help and smiles
were not wasted.
I wish i knew how
to pay you back,
but it seems that ability
is one that i lack.
Thank you! So very much!!
more than you know!
I wish i could show you
before i'm to go,
just how much you
really meant to me,
but time moved too fast
and now i'm set free.


i love you Woolard :)