My Alma Mater

This poem was written by Ruth Hew (5 Science 4) and taken from the 1985 School Magazine. Ruth was Head of the Literary Department for the School Magazine that year, and I remember being in awe of her deportment and writing skills when she asked me to join the department. Reading this poem again today definitely brought a catch to my throat.

There are no high, cloistered halls,
no wide, bay windows,
no tall, stately buildings.

There are no towering spires,
no imposing gates,
no chiming bells.

There are no rolling lawns,
no immaculate courts,
no cobblestone roadways.

There are no stern professors,
no musty book lined rooms,
no hushed atmosphere.

There are no gowned students,
no teas of cheese and wine,
no muted whispers.

But there are sprawling colonial styled buildings,
scattered shrubs and trim grass,
majestic palm tree guardians.

There are strong, upright morals,
time-tried traditions
far more than book knowledge.

There are dedicated teachers,
gatekeepers of wisdom's portals,
lovingly nurturing young minds.

There are bright young girls,
chattering, giggling, irrepressible,
energetic, determined, fun loving.

There are binges in the canteen,
antics in the classrooms,
action on the playing fields.

There is a living, growing entity
pulsing, throbbing with life,
and the joy of living.

This is my alma mater
second home for 11 years,
surrogate mother, teacher, refuge, friend.

BBGS, I am proud to own thee,
thy name, traditions, principles
for my own.

NISI DOMINUS FRUSTRA