The Little Village Schoolroom in Kilbrien

This poem was written many years ago by my grandfather. It is called "The Day I Ran with Style and Freedom from Kilbrien". Here it is...

I started school in Kilbrien many years ago today,
And as the time did pass by, in that same school I did stay.
One Monday as I was sitting in my chair,
The boys and I had no cares,
When in came the Master very late
And he looked in an awful state.
As he passed me by,
I treated him with a little smile,
Then he gave me one last look,
And these are the words he spoke
“Wait until I get my stick,
I will stop your smirking quick”
As he reached for that stick,
Out the door I ran quick.
He called two big boys from their class,
“Go on ye boys and bring him back.”


As I was running down the road,
With these lads on my tail,
I said to myself I better change my pace,
For I will out-run this human race.
And as I passed the creamery by,
The cheers they almost hit the sky,
They shouted “Good on the hare”
And I kept running without a care.
Then came these two buckoos in hot pursuit,
You’d think I was little brute
And as I turned up the hill,
These echoes they were ringing still,
And with my style and running skill,
I let the boys have their fill
As I ran to my homeland from Kilbrien.

As I was running in my home path,
I nearly knocked my mother flat,
“My son, my son, what have you done
That you had to make this run?”
And as my mother asked me same,
In the gate the two lads came.
My mother asked,
“What’s in your heads?”
And this is what the two boys said,
“It was your son who broke the rules,
T’was he who ran away from school,
And we have come to bring him back.”

With a few harsh words and it wasn't grace,
She quickly turned around the race,
And out the gate she gave them chase.
“Ye go right back on yer track,
And make sure you don't come back.”
Then she caught me by the hand,
“To me you are no disgrace,
And I am glad you won the race”
Then she brought me back inside,

“Tell me all without a lie”
And with a tear drop in my eye,
This is how it started by,
“I was sitting at my table,
The Master came in and he did not look stable
I just gave him a little smirk but it didn't seam to work”
He said, “Wait until I get my stick,
And I will stop your smirking quick”
“When he tapped his cane in the floor,
I chanced my luck and ran out the door
He called two big boys from their class
And told them they had to bring me back.
And that is how the race did start.”

She got out her notebook from the press,
And she wrote this note with great distress,
“Dear Sir,
On my you'll use no stick,
For I think you are the one is sick,
And if you don't change your ways,
My whole family you'll lose today”

When I went back to school next day,
Not a word did the Master say,
Or of me he made no fun,
For he knew well there'd be another run,
And even though I was still young,
I could run out his biggest chums.

I'll finish now with this rhyme,
“Below the Colligan river flows,
And above the Mauma breezes blow,
And to this day, still is fine,
Stands that little schoolroom in Kilbrien”

P.S A good run is better than a bad stand.
(Providing you can run!)

My Granddad Johnny Fennell wrote this. He died when he was 93. Posted by CF.