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Kunama 1959


My High School

(With apologies to Dorothea Mackellar)


The love of red brick buildings
Of neat tar paths and lanes
Of spruce, green trees and bushes,
Is running in your veins.
Strong love of bright green ovals,
Tennis court and cricket bat,
I know but will not share it
My love is not for that.

I love Monaro High School,
Of colours blue and gold,
Of happy, joyful students,
Of teachers young and old.
I love the timber buildings,
The wide brown land around,
Instead of bright green ovals,
We have the dusty ground.

I love the sunlight classrooms,
However much they bore,
I love those nagging teachers,
Who love to growl and roar.
I love the dusty driveway,
Where weeds grow everywhere,
The windy gathering places,
0 much too cold to bear.

I love the perfect timing,
Of bell-girls for the bell,
For sometimes extra Latin,
Is just like... well?
Now you know the reason why,
Perhaps you will agree,
Tho' no imposing building,
It's just the school for me.

CAROL FUSSELL, 2A


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