In August of nineteen seventy-two,
A new school started for you, and you.
In northern Ohio (fairest of states),
With textbooks, paper, and pencils, brand new,
(Erasers soon showed a trillion mistakes.)
That building remade with paint and a brush,
At eight-thirty (What?) stilled to a meek hush.
Green, young students (the intelligent sort),
Closed the gap from May with such a mad rush,
They couldn’t receive an interim report.
Grammar, and algebra, history, and shop,
Quizzes and tests, there was no place to stop;
Bible and other classes taught the rule,
To study, to read, to not be a flop,
Attending Wyandot Christian School.
Then came the fall outing (Remember that?)
A basketball game, the slim ‘gainst the fat.
Hot dogs were served (Yours were cold did you say?)
Three deep made some run; while others fell flat.
Cider, coco, and donuts (?) closed the day.
Tonight we are met in this banquet hall,
Behind lies the past, behind the quick fall,
Ahead lies the birthday of our Great Lord;
Vacation time, snow time, gift time, and all,
May you be blest with all heaven’s accord.
May you be – Oh, I forget to mention,
Miss Knaul, in the hall and noon‘s detention,
A trio girl who visits the jury,
Jogging, Perkins, a raccoon’s dissection.
Good-bye. We’ll see you in seventy three. – eab, 12/72
Penned while Principal of Wyandot and living at 205 Goodbread Street in Nevada, OH.
Separate-Holy 