Netherhill Old School 1962-1964


        


        Netherhill Old School in it's unique quality.




Old brick school tucked away in a mist of a tiny village seeing a withstand harsh storm to it's bleakness scattering to almost untouched fine brick arched windows built with wood brick stone to some miles there are old brick schools there old school some in it's ruins in it's beauty to the winds surrounded by shade of tree's. Stoves and furnaces the frame the sections on the wall dust board sorted the same way white hazy chalk written being on the board the children facing the written walls resembled an old school fortess there strength in it's unique quality dervived structure to the orginal style the old classroom were closed up with brick the movement near the front row there old school traditional values wandered as they hear the sounds of life beginning there sounds of life again one sounds of laughter the one woe sharing our fears to fill there hope the memories belonging to there treasures our old school a vivid dream there passed desire to the style whose walls resembled an old school at times near a small wooden brick wing.
                           
                          
A one room school project teachers who began teaching to take there journey woodwin measure there darting eyes within the windows to unite see the teacher dream faintly but dimly down to there dusty lanes of there to what used to be there old school rooms to the element soft the earth the old brick building brought there childhood memories giving to the arising longing in there moment that righted themselves etched in there past to the slightest sound in there classroom still sitting in there desks to succeed reading a book tightly with one's thoughts shuffling threw one's mind. There dream to be utterly delightful with all the children scurrying playing outside smiling a warm thank you once finished in there fresh frame of mind eager to learn to the seeing and the hearing the fine children short in a stature in uncouth appearance spirit's rose one's peace overtake to there delightful mythical there soft rustling slithy to there whirring dawn rendering the light of the room a grace of new mercies inspires in there pure strength there timeless of a new hope grey too often far from silent brightening up to one's dreary old ties echoed the abundance of stories in that same moment in that time to there enrich heritage.

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