I remember the many times
I sauntered schoolgirl-style
Beneath the beeches tall,
Their leafy parasols
...
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Philippa. This poem excels in so many ways. Creative word pictures, a tone that suggests a loving remembrance. You must have loved your school as much as if it had been your home. And in a way, a boarding school is one's home, for a time. The philosopher Hegel believed that a woodworker who loved his craft knew wood in a special way, perhaps bertter than did a scientist schooled in forestry. My im- pression is that you had that special knowledge of your school and its surroundings. Altogether excellent. Willa.
remarkably well-written for a girl of 17! (well-written for anyone!)