Augustus

An Apple For The Teacher

 

Dear teacher,

On your desk

Are gifts,

no less

 

Than candy,

Sweet–

Treats

From the neat.

 

I offer,

I tempt,

Left–  something,

Something different.

 

Part of me,

Painfully neat,

Plain to see

From me to thee.

 

What part do you wish?

Which art do you see?

Envisage quest.

Be my guest.

 

My gift to you

Hereto unfold,

A careful look

Into my soul.

 

Mind your own

To keep.

As mine is known

to creep

and clutch

The pure in heart.

 

Angel wings

Flap, flutter, fall,

Fill my hall

Of mastery.

 

Even as you read,

Write my web has sprung.

Your spirit is won!

One with mine.

 

Together

We fall

Toward the fiery hall

Of your destiny.

 

Go ahead, Conscience.

Struggle! Scream!

Little use.

I am supreme.

 

You taught me,

Remember,  

Teacher,

Now sinner.

 

 

 

 

Augustus/ Redlands, CA / March 25, 1988