A lass they called MGwee

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Iíve writ this little poem,
For a lass they call MGwee,
And on the basis of my literature,
I think and hope youíll all agree,
black is black, and white is white, there really is no other,
Person, as special as our,
Sincerely missed,
Corpus mother.

Iíve writ this little poem for a lass they call MGwee,
Who heralded from Lancashire but moved to Godís country,
To teach the folk of Halton Moor,
And pass onto them her knowledge,
Of subjects such as Spanish and RE,
at Corpus Christi,
Catholic College.

Spritely eyed and on the go,
She was always full of beans,
Was always round to straighten out,
Those naughty break time feins.

Truancy was her bugbear;
Did no good for her health,
Ironic thing was that she was,
Never on time herself.

If you were caught with gum in class,
Detention was the price,
Though an hour with old Ann Maguire,
Was always rather nice.

She was always such a cheerful being,
Her smile was always brimming,
She always had a happy face,
And especially after swimming!

She never had no worries
but one thing she always hated,
Was when our Spanish verbs,
Were incorrectly conjugated.

She always welcomed everyone,
There was no room for neglect,
Her biggest lesson that she taught,
Was to show people RESPECT.

When you talk of burning beacons,
Nothing looked dull next to her,
She lived her life by the song that said
You should Ďshow your true colourí

For her students at this fair old school,
Only the best did she desire,
Our hunger for success, we got
From humble, Ann Maguire.

Her life never revolved round time,
She never looked at clocks,
She never had the time to dry,
Those thick blonde soggy locks.

Her second chances; they were godsends,
She really was a legend,
And when you talk of fantastic teachers, well,
Maguire will, always, be mentioned.

But thatís because she always put,
Her treasured pupils first,
For us our pride and thanks to her,
Could make our weak hearts burst.

She loved everyone to pieces,
And her soul it was a biggun,
You cannot say owt bad about,
That saintly soul from Wigan.

As happy jolly people go, she was one of the few
Though itís still quite sad,
When someone you know,
Becomes, Someone, You knew.

One thing though that Iíd like to state,
That none of us should limit
Is that that brave soul Ms. Maguire,
Would forgive the boy who did it.

Because thatís what makes our Ann Maguire,
That no one should forget.
Her soul was always loving,
And her hair was always wet.

The Catholic faith ran through her bones,
Her shining light was Jesus,
And like that sacred son of God,
She lived her life to please us.

Lets keep our Christian principles now,
ĎCos even though sheís gone,
We still need to forgive the lad,
So that we can all move on.

One thing thatís guaranteed though,
For our head of year eleven,
Is that sheíll have her seat reserved,
Next to big JC in heaven.

She only worked her socks off,
So that we could have the best,
And I think its rather poignant now,
That she has a nice long rest.

She truly cherished everyone;
And conducted herself astutely,
But did everyone love Mrs. Ann Maguire?
Yes they did, oh, ABSOLUTELY!

Conor Bradley 2014


Last Modified on Sat 28th Mar 2015 02:02:27

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