I had Literature classes when I was young
With a debonair tutor in Leboh Ampang.
He was teacher, writer, musician, and composer
He wrote the anthems for his school
(Which students - I heard - gladly sang).
What was he - aside from hyperbole?
If he was still alive, he'd be rather old.
I remember him well - his sparkling eyes
A visionary. A dreamer.
And a compassionate soul.
He taught English and Literature
At St John's Institution KL.
And on the side, us - a motley tuition class
I was the only boy, while the others were lass
He was tutor and friend to all of us twelve.
Our days of youth. He was a wordy man
Whose joy was to dabble in a good game of Scrabble.
He wrote a weekly column for the papers
Describing with glee delightful strange words
Like "quetzals" and "capers" (the rest I can't remember).
How blessed we were in those long-ago days.
Words to him were a wonderful game.
In our young minds he had lit a flame.
His passion for language which we saw during class
Helped us see the world through his frame.
His name was Leonard (or Mr Leonard)
Or his pen name - Wong Siang Hume.
A beloved teacher, still in high regard
He knew his role and played the part.
But - one day he departed, a little too soon.
It was leukemia, or some strange disease;
A malady which struck him like a sneeze.
Too soon, his light -- which shone so bright --
Was snuffed out and gone -- out of sight.
Leaving us - his beloved students - with our memories.
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Blog Archive
Blogs I read (when I have time)
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The paradox of insular language7 months ago
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The End of Blogging (for Me)1 year ago
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The Only Person Fit to Be Mayor of NYC2 years ago
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My 2019 Annual Review4 years ago
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