Show and Tell

In grammar school, my favorite part Was weekly show and tell. It was the one activity At which we’d all excel. We’d bring to class most anything Of which we were quite proud. It was a time to share our joy And boos were not allowed. One time I brought my special cup; Its handle had a bird And when you blew into its tail, A whistle’s what you heard. Some other items I displayed (I had my mom’s permission) Were medals from the war That gave my dad some recognition. Though years have passed since grammar school, This custom perseveres. In quilting class, a finished product’s Shown to claps and cheers. We ooh and aah at every stitch; The quilter grins and beams. We never notice crooked borders Or uneven seams. For show and tell’s a time to crow And strut on center stage. Acknowledgement feels wonderful, No matter what your age!