The Decision

The Reality

The Dream

THE DECISION

I was young and restless; my love-life a stagnant pond;

I had a vague sort of yearning to see the world beyond,

Beyond the limits of a staff-room in a regular city school.

I wanted to breathe some different air, obey some different rule.

I sat there at the table; a stranger took a chair,

And then we started chatting about her country 'over there'.

She was a temporary teacher, on leave for just a while,

And whenever she mentioned her country she did so with a smile.

She painted, in glowing colours, the freedom and the sun,

The people and the climate, the laughter and the fun.

As she spoke I felt more restless, more eager to spread my wings,

To leave behind old London and a lot of other things.

She told me how I could organise such a momentous change;

Loose-ends I would have to tie! So much to arrange!

But, even as we spoke there, over a cup of tea,

I realised something important was happening to me.

I was last to leave the staffroom; briefly I was alone.

I took a deep breath and crossed the room and picked-up the telephone.

*

(The year? 1956. The destination? Rhodesia, now Zimbabwe.)

*

Rather a different view here:

http://rinklyrimes.blogspot.com/2008/06/34-zimbabwe-sunset.html