Poetry of the Tides

She

Oh behold she we call teacher!

The one whom we loved and followed,

She who owns the keys to many kingdoms,

She who has been our second mother,

She who has been a lamb for so long,

She who is crowned by pages of literature and golden light of knowledge.

Her words clear and true and her smile pure as snow.

Alas ill standards of society

Has turned her against us!

Such high expectations of the world, oh too high of expectations,

Have broken our ivory tower.

She with such loving face,

Now we must confront her not so kindly.

She has become a tiger as she stands before us,

With whip in iron hands,

A mask of emotionless metal on her face,

And cape of secret horrors should we fail her now.

This is what we think ...

Woe to us for this tiger we see before us.

Her crown darkened by our hate, so that now the light she held is fearsome.

Her voice now much harsher,

Her smile no long clear in meaning to us,

For we wonder is it a grin of mockery toward us.

So with violent passion we cast stones, yell our upset thoughts ...

So we no longer call her teacher,

But call her dictator!

But Oh, my allies! Stand back and do not cast our lady to the fire!

She does not mean to present herself so!

Ye must understand she is hiding behind her mask!

Let me please clear our lady's name!

She has all our best interest at heart.

She works us so hard to be ready to face the world beyond.

So what wickedness we curse is really her blessings to us.

So put her down from the spike!

Do not start the fire or pick up the stones!

For she is not the tiger or the lamb!

Cast her better yet as the white tiger rare in beauty,

Yet still very strong and nurturing.

So hail the queen of many lands,

The lady of author's books,

The keyholder,

The lamb,

The tiger,

The evil,

The blessing,

The second mother,

The dictator,

The queen,

The harsh,

The loving.

All hail up high Mrs. April Wilson.