YOU GAVE US THE WORLD

YOU GAVE  US THE WORLD

(FOR MEG TROTT)

You gave us the world in a spinning globe.

That you twirled on the tips of magic fingers 

Showing us the glamor spots, familiar places like Paris and Rome,

Showing us the trouble spots where famine hit like stone.

With a fire in your heart and a gleam in your eye

You took geography from cold dark pages,

Set it loose and let it fly from stodgy, rusty cages.

You gave me the world of independent study,

I spent my time on special projects,

Focusing on different countries, uncovering their roots,

Highlighting their topography and special attributes.

I seem to picture a scrapbook too

And a couple of colorful maps I drew.

I remember Humanities class, you sparring good-naturedly with the Brainiacs

Or as I would come to call us, the Great Humaniacs,

You and Mrs. Hottle diligently tried to keep the peace

With what was quite collectively a most notorious beast.

 In an essay I wrote I think I had you taking roll while standing on a desk,

Whether real or comic relief now is anybody's guess.

Everything's a challenge to remember, I wish that I had notes,

The moments they speed by me in their little motorboats.

I remember a trip to the Air and Space Museum in Washington, D.C.,

Filled with planes and spacecraft that once soared like birds,

And lunch at Gusti's Restaurant to be savored afterwards. 

Perhaps it is enough to say we had some wondrous times,

I remember reading Shakespeare and penning my own rhymes,

Teasing out parades of prose, attempting clever word plays

Painting new word portraitures to celebrate the days.

But all's well that ends well; today we're Facebook friends,

Perhaps you can help fill in, all the little odds and ends,

Like how I'd hang out with you in the classroom, on holidays from college,

In your tastefully decked out space filled with geographic knowledge.

Suffice it to say you remain in my heart, beyond the pesky details.

For all the wisdom you imparted to fill my billowing sails.

That spinning globe in ;your hands will for me forever twirl,

As I ponder golden school days, when you gave us all the world.

-Bruce Potta

Copyright 2024

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED