Pat Batt poem – The Teacher


The teacher strode into the hall –
He’d had his morning run,
A shower – cold – a brisk rub down,
Undoubtedly A.1.His skeleton was made of steel,
His toes had special points,
And coiled springs were his muscles,
With universal joints.

The class which leaned against the wall
Was quite a different thing –
Their skeletons were poor old bones

Tied up with bits of string,


Their muscles were like pillows

That had hardly any filling –

The only exercise they’d had

Was turning over Pilling!


But all that week he worked them hard

On travelling step and setting,

The Rondel, Knot and Allemande,

Espagnole and poussetting.


He told them he may finish

In his own especial way –

“ But I’m a Society Teacher –

You’ll dance it as I say!”


They listened with attention

And tried with all their might,

And sometimes – more by accident –

They almost got it right.


And when that week was ended

And the dancing was all done,

That C.3. class was fit and well –

Undoubtedly A.1.


They waved their thanks and all went home –

The teacher went to bed

With 97 new grey hairs

Upon his aching head.


A shaking hand, a nervous twitch –

His nightmare voice was heard –

Right shoulder reel – the other right!

And close your feet in Third!


Penned at Borrowdale in March 1986 for Derek Haynes