Sixty years ago today, I penned this entry in my then-diary:
Since yesterday I've been writing short poems - pretty good ones - if I do say so myself. It's usually about a person. One I especially like is:
Brother Adrian
When the boys go out to play,
Brother Adrian stayed away.
"Have to study," he just said,
"By tonight I will have read
Books of every type and kind,
For I simply have to find
How in French to write the words,
'Reading books is for the birds!'"
A little context: I was at that time in grade ten at De La Salle College "Oaklands" which was run by Christian Brothers, a Catholic teaching order. Brother Adrian was our then-new-to-us (two weeks prior) French teacher. When I read this doggerel a couple of days ago it brought to mind a Brother who had been nicknamed "the bird" by his students, based supposedly, as suggested by my friend Alfy who also went to De La Salle back then, on his behaviour. Now, neither Alfy nor I have a direct recollection (sixty years can do that) of the bird's identity but it makes sense to me that it was in fact Brother Adrian — inspiring the poem's raison d'ĂȘtre by way of its terminal double entendre.