The Little Schoolhouse

In a little school house long ago
I whiled away my hours,
Not over books, as I should have
But, dreamin' up poems of flowers.

An bees, an birds, an cooling woods 
An sunny days and peaceful nights
An I vowed when I got more grown up
Of all these things I'd write.

An some day I would venture back
To that same school house door
And I'd recite poems to the kids
They'd clap an say, "More, more."

Since that time, twenty-six years have passed
I now am thirty-eight,
But yet I've ne'er forgot my vow
A little while I'll wait-

Until the knowledge of all these things
Has reached a higher score,
Then I can write better poetry
By understanding more.

An when at last I've reached my goal
I'll go back an thru my tears,
I'll tell them how that little school house
Has inspired me thru the years.

Treva E. Stokes (1912-1980)   This poem was written in 1950.