Friday, March 19, 2010

The Viewing Of Me

Look at them, looking at me
In neat little rows, my classmates you see
Dutifully diligent, their heads well raised
Backs rigidly straight, hands folded not lazed
In disdain or amusement, anticipating they stare
I laugh in silence amidst their glare

The aisles he walks, his back to me
Mr. Strict is the name, I gave him with glee
Clacking and clattering, his yardstick is waved
From desktop to desktop, not a one is saved
With the whipping stick's swish, my classmates he scares
Alone I await what wicked fates he dares

Strict he is, but what did I do?
"Nothing," I say. "Something," Says you.
Hands on my head, before all who would peer
For the sake of nothingness, one is not here
Consider my choices and the chances I take
Can you safely assume there has been a mistake?

Could it be gum, I left on the floor?
Stuck to his shoe, Strict would roar
Or perhaps it was his lecture I did disrupt
Were my insights untrue and unduly abrupt?
Am I a victim, the object of vengeance so undeserved?
Or do you believe, justice is here and soon to be served?

Horns or a halo, what do you say?
Proof my hands hide, each and every way
In shadows of darkness I so easily conceal
Wings of feather or a fiendish tail's zeal
Truth is mine and it I will keep
Say what you will, but I am in too deep

The reasons of why matter not at all
I am here for a point and it is not to stall
Smiling through this frown is not a disguise
It is only the view seen through your eyes
But be it laughter or tears soon to be heard
I promise you this, I will have the last word

The moment approaches and so does he
His eyes are fixed and staring at me
With flicks of his wrist, the yardstick still waves
A response I could give, yet my finger behaves
Containing excitement, I hold this pose
Near as he comes, my eyes do not close

Options he has and he considers them well
Every tool of his trade has a story to tell
A choice in paddles, leather or wood
Solid or holed, he knows they are good
Straps seem benign until they are swung
Notice you will take if they have a split tongue

The time is now, there is nowhere to flee
Will he bend me in half over his knee?
Over a desk, he could force me to lay
My skirt is too short, will he take it away?
Bottoms are bared, this truth I know
Will you watch my cheeks as they begin to glow?

Strict he is and strict is his game
Even upside down it is all the same
His strokes fall fast and even in spread
This bottom and face must certainly be red
My top slips up with nothing left to conceal
Your wandering eyes have sealed the deal

This naughty one knows, this naughty one sees
As bad as I am, no one disagrees
We all are aware in this I am bold
The silence I keep, I have never told
But you are the ones bad to the bone
And yes this truth, I have always known


AL said...


Excellent story really like how you did this in poetry form. there was so many verses I liked in this one. outstanding writing, you are doing a fantastic job with these stories.great job on making each story unique I know it cant be easy at times I am enjoying these and all your stories. three cheers for you (lol)
Thanks AL

Paul said...

Ash, wow, multi talented now you turn to verse.
If your stories don't stun us, they do, your verse will.
Very well done dear girl.
I very inclined to clap and call encore, but I suspect that you have enough on your plate.
Warm hugs,

Ashley J said...

Al, I like to see how many different ways I can do these things. I'm glad you liked it.

Paul, Thanks, I wasn't sure how this would be received but it was a lot of fun to write. I might just have to do another one like this in the future.