Portrait of a grammar teacher by a student

[Brownlie]

There are some things I do in autumn:

I mark the sanguine blooming of the leaves;
I notice all the dried out fallen shells bestrewn
Across the ever feeding microcosmic earth;
I laugh about the coming winter,
Sneering at the barren cold in constant jest;
I tell the children “Mind your phonemes, mind your lexemes,
And 
if you call that homonym polysemy,
I'll cash out all the rage that I've been holding
(with and in reserve)."