.

A Half Century Ago

Oh there once was a time in our nation so fair,
When the pledge to our flag was in schools everywhere,
When young children could safely walk daily to school,
And not be attacked by some crazy half-ghoul.

There were boys, there were girls, and each sex was unique;
There was never a question which restroom to seek.
And the teacher addressed you as “mister” or “miss,”
Not as “ze,” not as “zem,” not as “bugself” or “hiss.”

Mathematics, and grammar and spelling were stressed,
There were none in our class who’d been under arrest.
There were teachers we had that were actually cool,
And no need for police every day at our school.

U.S history, Washington, Lincoln, were key,
With no spiel about gender nor sick CRT.
Drug use was uncommon, no shooters galore;
And we kids were not searched for a knife at the door.

‘Twas an era now passed that was free from despair,
When the teacher could lead in a short daily prayer.
‘Twas a fine education the schools would bestow
But now all of it’s passed half a century ago.

.

.

Red Autumn Leaves

a rhupunt

Red autumn leaves,
tall golden sheaves;
as nature grieves,
__it mirrors the soul.

Bright summer fades
to dusky shades,
as time cascades,
__such scenes console.

An amber land,
at God’s command
and nature’s hand,
__with bounties whole.

Seasons now past,
they wend so fast;
lives are recast—
__to life a skoal!

.

.

Phil S. Rogers is a sixth generation Vermonter, age 72, now retired, and living in Texas. He served in the United States Air Force and had a career in real estate and banking.  He previously published Everlasting Glory, a historical work that tells the story of each of the men from Vermont that was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor during the Civil War.


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5 Responses

  1. C.B. Anderson

    Yeah, Phil, fifty years ago I was a lad approaching the height of his powers, and the world seemed to be run by intelligent adults. And before that, in high school, there were many teachers few pupils dared to cross, but now many teachers are afraid of their students for one reason or another. I hate to use the term “good old days,” but — damn! — back then there seemed to be plenty of good to go around.

    Excellent anapests in the first poem, by the way

    Reply
  2. Roy E. Peterson

    Ah, back then we had law and order, educators who taught us well, an administration that support the Pledge of Allegiance, and churches with the mission of saving us from hell and getting us to heaven rather than prostrating themselves before the altar of alternative lifestyles. Our generation certainly did have it better than those who came before or have followed since.

    Reply
  3. Norma Pain

    I really enjoyed your poem ‘A Half Cemtury Ago’, Phil. I believe they were the good old days. If only we could return to some semblance of that kind of normal. There is so much wackiness these days.

    Reply
  4. Susan Jarvis Bryant

    Phil, who would have believed our world could change so much in so many awful ways in just half a century? The nostalgic words of “A Half Century Ago” make me feel like I’m reading an old parchment page in a dusty history book… and I am only a little older than half a century!

    Thank you for both poems… I’ve never tried a rhupunt – the beautiful words and intriguing layout of “Red Autumn Leaves” have inspired me.

    Reply
  5. Margaret Coats

    I still have class photos of a half century ago, one including a teacher who would ask students to volunteer to lead the daily prayer. She considered that a valuable skill to practice so that we could easily pray in public as adults. Yes, it was a public school, run by the local government. And after school, we walked home not “attacked by some crazy half-ghoul,” but learning how to exercise our purchasing power at a small business. Sno-Cones in many colors and flavors cost a dime, sold by a man out of the back of his car, with no health or safety inspection. Thanks, Phil, for delightful lines recalling those times. Were it not for you, Sno-Cones would have remained in the depths of memory, but I can almost taste my favorite blueberry.

    Reply

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