Where is the Calm? A poem by Fran Bardsley

Where is the calm
Of which I hear tell?
Where are the children who wake late,
Freed from the prison of schools and structure?

Where is the burgeoning resourcefulness?
The confident, self-led learners;
The siblings who no longer fight,
Instead relaxing happily into each other’s company.

Where are the extra hours of
Treasured family time?
Memories being made and Shared
The simple joys of slowing down radiating from each family member
A natural aura of content.

Where are the ambitious craft projects?
Elaborate chalk rainbows;
Tray after tray of cakes fresh from the oven
Following a wholesome day of home-schooling.

Amidst the chaos of another meal
I see ripped up shreds of paper –
Tear-stained evidence of another fraught ‘lesson’.
I hear rising voices,
Smell the unmistakable stench of an unflushed toilet
Feel sticky residue beneath my fingers.

I ask myself again
As I break up one more senseless fight;
Where is the calm?


A journalist for 10 years, Fran now works in marketing and PR in the education sector and writes as much as she can. Older writings can be found here.

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