The Marine Landed

If that doesn't describe Mr. Bliss, I don't remember rightly, as this is about what happened to some boys needing direction.

Some of those, on my mail list,
Went to school with me,
New Principal, Sir-named Bliss,
Arrived, in Fifty Two, or Three.

Full head of White, Retired Marine,
We had a school-gang, they were bad,
Decided, the Principal, They'd train,
What happened next was so very sad.

Unruly bunch, his office, they strolled in,
Without knock, request, or permission,
Short talk they thought they'd win,
Until, Bliss snowed upon their treason.

Through the door, each one flew,
You'd think that they had wings,
Landed, and slid into hall wall, true,
So in their heads, a bird that sings.

The 'border-liners,' much like me,
Needed only that one call,
From the Angel of 'Lesson learned,'
To place our rebellion, in a stall.

And, we then lived, to graduate.
[Thank you, Lord, and Mr. Bliss; we received what we needed.]

(Mr. Bliss may well have been a very lonely Principal/man, with no discipline problems, mostly, after that.)

Poem motivation Story: What a teacher... A Marine..!

A former Sergeant in the Marine Corps took a new job as a high school teacher.

Just before the school year started, he injured his back.

He was required to wear a plaster cast around the upper part of his body.

Fortunately, the cast fit under his shirt and wasn't noticeable.

On the first day of class, he found himself assigned to the toughest students in the school.

The smart aleck punks, having already heard the new teacher was a former Marine, were leery of him and he knew they would be testing his discipline in the classroom.

Walking confidently into the rowdy classroom, the new teacher opened the window wide, and sat down at his desk.

When a strong breeze made his tie flap, he picked up a stapler and stapled the tie to his chest.

Dead silence.... He had no trouble with discipline the rest of the year.