[ɪ] drinking [ʌ/ ʊ] lost [ɒ] crusts [i:] read [əʊ] probes [e/ eə:] desk [ai] light

[ei] hailed [ɜː] word [ʊə/ u/ u:] roots [au] now [æ] class [ɔː/ ɔɪ ] straws

The Play Way

Sunlight pillars through glass, probes each desk
For milk-tops, drinking straws and old dry crusts.
The music strides to challenge it,

Mixing memory and desire with chalk dust.

My lesson notes read: Teacher will play
Beethoven's Concerto Number Five
And class will express themselves freely
In writing. One said 'Can we jive?'

When I produced the record, but now
The big sound has silenced them. Higher
And firmer, each authoritative note
Pumps the classroom up tight as a tyre,

Working its private spell behind eyes
That stare wide. They have forgotten me

For once. The pens are busy, the tongues mime
Their blundering embrace of the free

Word. A silence charged with sweetness
Breaks short on lost faces where I see

New looks. Then notes stretch taut as snares. They trip
To fall into themselves unknowingly.