Staccato but elegantly so,

All buttoned down,

Crisp and proper annunciation

Like a breakfast tea parade:

An epitome of courtesy,

You present your bow,

The gown, neat, straight, majestic;

An exhibition of precision and control,

The visage, stern – beyond irony –

Or so it seemed to Moss Close little men.

But there was another Ken

We grown ups saw:

The stiletto grin, the satirical brow,

The punctuated nod or expleted oui,

That wickedly gentle smile.

Or heard those breathless expressions of hilarity

That sixth form banter brought on

The stream of improper nouns:

Smashdom and grabbery.

The news of rum goings on in Mayfield

Or read the acute but never grave critiques

Of the cultural stuff that someone had to write…..

The patient farmer of young minds:

The Duty Master of La Comedie Humaine:

“Le milieu explique l’homme!”