Measure of Mirth

+54

Close these weary eyes of mine,
Play the Bad Boy’s Having a Party,
I can indulge in delights so fine
Of Fridays in Civics that were sweet.

Oh yeah!

Mrs. Chaney and that radio of hers,
Both tuned to the oldies on Hot 105;
Luther starts to plays as it recurs,
And she smiles, she dances, sings live.

Well, all right now!

What joy to witness her really bask
In such a relief from the workweek;
Her daily struggle execrated at last,
As she swings, dwelling in melody.

Oh yeah!

We would just sit, listen, and learn,
Finish the week test quickly to survey;
Our weekly burdens were burned,
Ash like hers burned asunder in a sway.

Well, all right!

I had aced her class with all my lesson,
Yet words may never suffice gratitude;
That strong Black woman was a blessing,
First to see my strong sense of negritude.

Oh yeah!

Thank you, Mrs. Chaney

© 2011 Sanaili Creative Writing, Inc

This poem was written/submitted by Lamar Ingraham.

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