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Funny Teacher Poems | Funny Poems About Teacher

These Funny Teacher poems are examples of Funny poems about Teacher. These are the best examples of Funny Teacher poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme | |

Newton's Law

I was inattentive in Science class one day
When the teacher at random looked my way
I didn't look up, I wouldn't dare
There's no escaping that intense glare.

Asked me to explain to the class
Newton's Law of Gravity and mass
My mind was a blank, heartbeats louder
For an answer I started to flounder.

I stood before the class trembling with fear
"Gravity" I said...and then oh dear!!!
I fell off the stage on to the floor
How the class with laughter did roar.

The children tittered in great amusement
They didn't know my sad predicament
The teacher said, "You've demonstrated gravity"
"Although you did it with much levity".

At length I returned to my seat
With many applause did they greet
Now I look back upon this and ponder
I decide to listen and not let my mind wander.

Copyright © Nandita Das | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sonnet | |

Teacher's Pet

As I look back, it all seems funny now
Recalling all those awkward teen age years
I pushed the limits farther than allowed
Supposedly when young, we had no fears

Infatuation caught me with the blues
My heart was swollen by love's gentle sting
It was a crush that only left a bruise
Left by the diamond in her wedding ring

The first day I laid eyes on her, I fell
The lightning bolt she was, that shook my world
And to this day I swear I'd know her smell
Could she have read my mind, she'd likely hurled

I hated school but never missed her class
She said she loved me 'cause I made her laugh


  original poem by Daniel Turner

Copyright © Daniel Turner | Year Posted 2016

Details | Footle | |

having sex - footle

buck wild
rodeo style
_______________________|
PENNED ON AUGUST 14, 2014!

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme | |

Went Fishin'


Submitted to the "Gone Fishin" contest
------------------------------------------------

Trollin’ the islands at Texoma,
It was April, 1964.
New rod and reel in hand,
I’d NEVER been fishing before.

A Garcia 2510T casting rod.
The reel, a Mitchell 301,
Plus hand-selected worms and lures…
I was ready to have some fun.

My teacher, a master fisherman,
Had fished all over the earth...
From trout in Austrian mountain streams
To sea bass just west of Perth.

He showed me all the basics,
Including how to tie a lure.
“No snaps. They’re no good.
Tie’em on…just to be sure.”

He made me practice casting.
“Take aim with your rod’s tip 
Take her back - ten, eleven, twelve, one;
Smoothly return to ten… with just a little flip.”

While I practiced the casting motion,
He said, “Large Mouths will be jumpin’ bugs.
Water’s bubblin’ with Sand Bass spawnin’.
You’ll know the difference if one gives you a tug.”

As we drifted around the islands,
He said, “I think you’re ready.”
So, I picked a lure, a pretty Heddon;
And tied her on.  My hands were steady.

Yellow with black dots and a weed guard. 
A streamer tail and double treble hooks.
Who knew if she would do the job,
But I liked the way she looked.

As I tied her on, I looked around
For a likely place for my first cast.
Magazine pictures always showed weeds
In the background of a striking Bass.

So, I picked a reed bed in the shallows;
Threw my first cast, watched her fly.
What happened next was the stuff of dreams.
We couldn’t believe our eyes. 

About eighteen inches before she lit,
A monstrous Large Mouth erupted from the water.
My teacher screamed, “Holy Mary, Mother of God!  
Kiss O’Reilly’s Ugly Daughter!”

When the Bass broke water, it scared me. 
My whole body jerked and shook.
So sudden, so silent, it seemed like slow motion.
Until I heard him screaming, “Set the hook!  Set the hook!”

When the big Bass scared me,
I must have set the hook.
The tussle was on, long and hard.
This fish didn’t want to be cooked.

My lack of skills prevailed, however,
As I finally reeled him in;
I grabbed him by the lower lip,
Like I’d seen Don Wallace do, time and time again.

“Oh, my God”, he murmured as he weighed the Bass;
“Jeez.  Over thirteen pounds....Thirteen pounds, two.”
He took out his Polaroid and laughed, 
“I’ll take a picture of this fish... holdin' you.”

He snapped the picture of me holding the Bass;
On the back wrote the date, the length and weight.
As he turned to put the camera away……
Get ready.  This is the part that’s great.

I’d watched Don Wallace ‘catch and release’.
He always did that on his show.
“This fish put up a good fight.” he’d say;
“Now it’s time to let him go.”

Yes, as my teacher put away the camera,
I held the big Bass by the lower lip and tail
And ‘swished’ him in the water,
Making sure his gills would not fail.

My teacher turned and saw what I was doing
Just as I let the big Bass go.
This, too, was like slow motion
As I heard him screaming, “NOOOOOOO!”

“Why would you do that, Lad?
Do ya know nothin’ at all?
A fish like that... on your very first cast?
Well...Lad, that fish goes on the wall.”

“Well…he’ll be here next year.” I said with a smile,
“And even bigger, I’ll bet.”
He said, ”You’ll make a fisherman, Lad.
It’s not for the fish that we fish…

but for the great stories we get.” 

I still have that lure…and the rod and reel.
Still in their bags and boxes, just like new.
I thought about selling them on eBay,
But 50 years later, they have sentimental value.

You see…I’ve been invited to go fishin’ several times
By golfin’ buddies and other friends;
But for some reason…I really don’t know why…
I’ve never gone fishin’ again.

They say, “Truth is stranger than fiction.”
And I believe that is a fact.
I hope you enjoyed this bit of truth and,
In the meantime…..”Ya’ll come back!”

Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Bladder Problems in Class

Numbers on 
White board…names written hori-
zontally

Students ask
To go pee…right when class starts – 
THAT’S just wrong…

Bathroom line
Of students who have bladder
Problems – WOW!

People are
Not using lunchtime to do 
Their business 

No one knows
When to do their duties – SER-
IOUSLY?

Copyright © J. W. Earnings | Year Posted 2013

Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

I Just Can't Stand Poetry

I just can't stand poetry!
It badly boggles my brain!
I'm supposed to learn to rhyme!
But uck! You think I'm not sane?

I just can't stand poetry!
With its assonance and stuff!
"These three fleas fly in the breeze,"
I have really had enough!

I just can't stand poetry!
With metaphors I am through!
I'm becoming quite outraged!
A beast I'm turning into!

I just can't stand poetry!
Using similes? The worst!
I think we both can agree,
it's like being in jail! But worse!

I just can't stand poetry!
Personification's dumb!
I think my head will explode!
BOOM! Oww... that wasn't so fun!

I just can't stand poetry!
But I HAVE TO preach it... Grr!
I wish I had not applied
To be an English teacher!

Copyright © Jacob Cra | Year Posted 2013

Details | Limerick | |

Replacement Teacher

There once was a teacher from Crete
Whose foot size was very petite.
But her students did plot
And to high school they brought,
Some shoes for oversize feet.

Copyright © Richard Breese | Year Posted 2014

Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: V

Omniscient guy
Yet he lets bad things happen
How can he exist?

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Sonnet | |

Bad Teacher - 80's Style

Some ooglay dweeb-o-rama after school went and caught me mashing with my boy toy (a stella stud, I kid you not -mad cool!) Geek said, “He’s half your age!” I said, “No DOY!” Before that tard could gag me out the door, I told him, “Hey, step off and bag your face.” Then he spazzed out and said I was a whore. For real?? I’d barely got to second base! Suck! Geek finally booked it; then my stud put on some jams and everything was SCWHEET! We vegged out on the couch and shared a bud, then later played New Wave, grooved to the beat. My dude is wicked, and the zeek was right: I’m sure not young, but OH, how young the night! ** I have composed a list of definitions for all the 80's slang words and phrases. Just click on "About this Poem" Written by Andrea Dietrich For craig cornish's "Talk That Way" Poetry Contest (My decade of course is the 80's)

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012

Details | Bio | |

Solitude: To Yoda, An Ode

Green bark a prism creates,
Feel the pull of earth, you must.

Rotates, a slime of endless hates,
Can hold me not, this world’s crust.

Friendship’s ties, isolation Deflates,
Succumbs, my spaceship, to bitter rust.

Mist, my soul forever permeates,
Lift-off, booms the rocket’s thrust.

My spirit when light returns, elates,
Swamps swell, swallowed hope’s swirling dust.

Trapped, I am, until student from fate
Arrives to learn; Cloud City or bust.

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Light Poetry | |

Highly Intelligent Gluteus Maximus

The student sits in third row last chair
His foolish words of attention are blurted everywhere
He understands not the value of listening
For he seeks laughs and howls for the teacher’s off>< pissing
Until finally the day of teacher student conflict
The teacher enquires of the student’s gimmicks 
Young man confronting the joker for all to hear
Your gall for the learned compliance suitable for classroom learning
Indicates your true ability of one of extremely asinine qualities
I must admit as all the students are listening here
You are the greatest highly intelligent gluteus Maximus I ever did hear

Copyright © Mark Goodson | Year Posted 2014

Details | Verse | |

Binary

One is love, 
Zero is everything else. 


Copyright © A.O. Taner | Year Posted 2016

Details | Narrative | |

The Mathematician Said

On February 10th, the mathematician gave us this math exam
overflowing with multiple choice, true and false
plus those dreaded inequality graphs shining in my eyes
As I approached the questions on the paper
those equations, integers, line slopes
fractions and exponents glaring at me 
like an obeah spell cast by  a witchdoctor
I began feeling agitated like I was terrified of my own shadow
The mathematician said as she darted her eyes in my direction:

“Mia you need to calm down you’re making me nervous, 
you’re not supposed to be making the teacher nervous!”
in her voice which  resembled that of  a sixteen year old 


When time had eventually drained away from the clock
as I  arose from my wooden desk at the back of the classroom
I had clumsily knocked over my pencils, pens and calculator
to the floor like falling raindrops in a pine forest
Then the mathematician got up 
and  she was vex again
and said: 
“Mia, stop your foolishness,
let me get out of here!”
as if she had visited a haunted mansion
and  sighted drunken sperrits  popping out  on Halloween night
and the mathematician said one last time as she was leaving
“Mia you are not supposed to be making the teacher nervous!”



                                                                          Written by: Mia Pratt,2014

Copyright © Mia Pratt | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Smart Little Johnny

It's a real story that happened in one school  
when a teacher appeared to be a complete fool. 
Once when a teacher of math was sick 
a teacher of physical education came, named Nick. 
He wanted to show how intelligent he is 
so he said: Solve my problem please! 
- The car moves at a high speed. 
To go to Spain a plane we need. 
How old am I if the plane now is high in the sky? 
- If to take all these tasks and mix  
we’ll get the result: You are twenty six. 
- Right you are Johnny! 
Your arms are scrawny but brain is brawny. 
How did you solve this problem so quick? 
For me it’s easier to break a brick. 
- Well, our neighbor being so sleazy is thirteen, 
and my mum says that he is a semi cretin. 

©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)

For Francine Roberts contest "Humor Me"

Copyright © Larisa Rzhepishevska | Year Posted 2012

Details | Narrative | |

The Morning My Teacher Made Me Laugh

One Monday morning, shortly before noon
I was sitting on the porch beside my teacher’s office
as still as a seagull on a wooden dock
then suddenly, as I listened
I heard the sounds of my teacher’s heels
“click, clack, click,  clack!” 
echoing against the pavement
as loud as shimmering maracas 

It was the sight of my teacher 
strutting out on the horizon 
getting her morning coffee
as I listened to her dialogue 
with her colleague mentioning
something about her foot 
which made me giggle like 
a circus clown, because of 
her voice tone on the word “foot”
sounded like a French accent
She then twisted her head 
back toward my  direction
saying: 
“Mia were you laughing at me!,
were you laughing at me, Mia!”
I sheepishly replied: “no ma’am,
 please don’t let your spirit 
haunt me in my sleep tonight!”
 

                                                                       Written by: Mia Pratt,2014              

Copyright © Mia Pratt | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Underwear made for a BOY

If you sit tight, and promise not to spite
I will tell you a story, when I was not in my glory
grade one, a new chapter
who knew my teacher would be a captor?
that’s right! I said it!
a washroom run, she did not permit
there I stood
as still as I could
but I couldn’t help wiggle, then jiggle, and out popped a nervous giggle
first I got a casual stare
not two seconds later, a frightening glare
Oh no! I thought
a quick exit I sought
I could feel the rush coming
my small feet started drumming
how could she be so cruel?
this has got to be against some rule!
and there it went
the warm stream I could not prevent
I could tell she was mad
but I had to go SO bad!
she pointed the way out
boy! Did she shout!
“go to the loo! You twitsy-poo”!

Oh. So you thought that was it?
why don’t you take another short sit
to the principals office I walked down
sporting a most shameful frown
she also looked unimpressed
thank goodness, I was wearing a dress
my underwear was wet but my clothes remained dry
if I had to wear lost and found clothes again, I surely would cry
I pictured Mrs. Marriotti as a belly dancer
while she called mom for dry underwear, but there was no answer
I was vexed, with what happened next
you’ll never believe me
the travesty that was caused by my pee
not only was I humiliated, and my new teacher I did annoy
but the underwear I had to wear for the day was made for a BOY!

Diana-Marie Bombardieri
January 30, 2012
CONTEST - Dr. Seuss is on the loose (G. Rix)

Copyright © Diana-Marie Bombardieri | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme | |

Our Teacher Rides on Her Broom

Our teacher rides on her broom
she levitates on it in our classroom
she will snap and  then deride
wish she'll take her pride for a ride!

Our teacher rode off on her broom
and there was joy in the classroom!

Our teacher came back from her ride
and all the students stirred inside,
"How do we rid her?" 
"We must decide!"

"There are students in other classrooms
that also ride as you on brooms"
"They need a guide!"
"They want your brew!"
"They can ride along with you!"
"They  can be your new crew!"

"Fly to them now, that's what you should do!"
" We won't miss you, we won't be blue ! "
"Fly to them now, that's what you should do!"


Copyright McCuen 2009

Copyright © MC MC | Year Posted 2009

Details | Rhyme | |

Laugh Today

A fifth grade class was having a celebration.
It was a get together for their graduation.
Each student was assigned to do something.
So the teacher was telling everyone what to bring.

One girl was told to bring in a cake for everyone.
Another was told to bring in games to have fun.
The last student was asked to bring the party supplies.
He was a transfer Asian kid, and he was very wise.

The night finally came and was here.
But the Asian boy never seemed to appear.
They waited around but he never came.
The teacher thought she was to blame.

As the party came to close, the teacher started to clean.
She was hoping that nothing she said to him came off mean.
She heard something in closet, it sounded pretty big in size.
When she opened it, out jumped the Asian kid yelling “Supplies!!!”

**I hope no one takes this as racist**

Copyright © Chris Matt | Year Posted 2011

Details | Rhyme | |

Boring Class but Saved by the Bell!

Clock ticking like crazy while my teacher is explaining
Scribbling on my paper during the time that is remaining.
Watching the clock religiously as if time would speed up
the teacher takes a sip from his big blue coffee cup.

Due to his monotony I have no idea what hes speaking about.
as he writes on the white board I try to tune him out.
Interrupted while thinking about what lunch is today
my teacher asks about the topic and if I have anything to say.
He stares at me rudely as a smirk spreads on his face
I know hes secretly excited that he gets to put me in my place.

I stutter as I try to remember what exactly he was asking
I wouldn't be in this dilemma if I was good at multitasking.
Press my lips together and hope the bell will ring
but I feel as helpless as a baby bird with a broken wing.
Maybe my facial expression will make the teacher think I'm pondering
even though he knows this whole time my mind has been wandering.

Teacher bows his head in complete and utter frustration
I knot my eyebrows together in false concentration.
The teacher clears his throat but its not heard very well
because at this moment I have been saved by the bell!

Copyright © Ella Marley | Year Posted 2008

Details | Sonnet | |

Distraction In The Classroom

Some boys forget their mom's words,
they leave for school in a mad rush
with uncombed hair looking like nerds;
in the classroom they have a crush.
Liz, their teacher, wears tight jeans,
they can't concentrate on the test;
she's happy for attracting the teens,
their girlfriends notice their unrest.
They hate their beautiful teacher, 
but her vulgarity makes them sneer: 
her character isn't worthy of cheer.
When paper planes start a warfare,
Liz's hair seems a style so rare;
all the boys laugh: it is a snare.  
     

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

The English Teacher

I have taught many subjects to many people in my career.
Whether I was teaching first year engineers to write an essay,
or bored sixth-graders the difference between composite and prime,
I never once doubted my abilities as a teacher.

I was passionate, caring, easy to understand, and always got my point across.
Or so I thought—
I learned otherwise one quiet afternoon in a village in Morocco.

I silently watched as my husband’s sister, to whom I had been teaching English,
repeatedly chanted “good night” to my dog, while waiting expectantly for her to “sit”.

My dog cocked her head to the side, in that way that only dogs can, with a sly grin on her face,
and if she could speak, I’m sure she would make a quip about not being sleepy.

I continued to watch without a word, I was speechless really,
and hoped for the sake of my career that my dog would get tired and sit.

Copyright © Theresa T | Year Posted 2012

Details | Limerick | |

THE TEACHER

There once was a teacher from Trenton
who tried, but he couldn't keep his belt on,
His pants they would fall
on his knees he would crawl,
And the children, they all paid attention.

Copyright © JACQUELYN STURGE | Year Posted 2007

Details | Rhyme | |

FUNNY EXPERIENCE


Inside the classroom full of students
The teacher teaches about patience
           But there were some lazy group
           Noisy and talking about the latest scoop

The teacher’s patience’s exploded
Beauty on her face was faded
          The student’s attention are focused 
          To the person in front of the board

Silence filled in the air
Listening to their beloved teacher
          Word by word they’ve learned
          But one student fart loudly at the end

Bursting with laughter's inside the room
It’s like time bomb that really boom
          The teacher who is very angry
          Comes back with her natural beauty

Because of the sound she hears
You can see her eyes with tears
           It’s not sadness but pure happiness
           And the class were dismiss…….


For PD's Contest
8th Place Winner

Copyright © MariaDiding SajSam | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme | |

teachers

                             

                              I’ve had enough of teachers
                              They’re as boring as can be
                              Standing in the playground
                              Drinking endless cups of tea

                              I’ve had enough of teachers
                              Telling me what to do
                              I’d like to stick them to their chairs 
                              with really powerful glue.

Copyright © shan jones | Year Posted 2014

Details | I do not know? | |

Paddling bully

(This is a fictional poem)

In the seventh grade I had a bully for a teacher.
He was ugly and he was indeed a horrible creature.
He gave paddlings and that really got us kids annoyed.
He smiled when he paddled because it was something he enjoyed.

He gave over twenty paddlings a day.
Even if we did no wrong, he'd paddle us anyway.
One afternoon all I did was speak to a friend.
My teacher hit me seven times on the rearend.

It really hurt when he hit me with his paddle.
A lot of kids don't squeal but I decided to tattle.
I told my uncle who stands 7'3" and weighs 250 pounds.
He said he was going to visit my school and that my teacher was going down.

My uncle told my teacher that he had no right to paddle me just because I talked.
Then he broke all of my teacher's limbs and he couldn't even walk.
I got a new teacher and I said Hooray!
My former teacher decided to stop teaching on that very day.

Copyright © randy johnson | Year Posted 2006

Details | Light Poetry | |

JUST POSTED

A young girl stood at the school hall wall,
Some paper in her hand,
She shuffled her shoes while eyeing the views,
And the news on a notice board.
This space looks so impersonal, the wall so pale and long,
While shoe heels clicked (click-clack, clickety-click), 
“Oh! No” was her thought,
So she turned to walk to the class she had just come from,
She bumped a teacher passing by, 
Forms and rulers to the floor did fly!
She knelt to help retrieve the mess
Showing stick-thin legs under her worn check dress,
The lady teacher had a smile “and this one’s yours
You’re new of course!”
She nodded once or twice,
“It’s really good, I think you (should) post
This on the spot at the side”
And so they did, the teacher and kid
That rumpled poem post.
“My name is Miss Jane, I hope we meet again
You’re Ruth or so I am told”.

Now years have rolled on  from that school they have gone.
No longer there to meet.Ruth did make a housewife proud and love she gave and took
(still) in her mind the prose she’d find, and times awhile to write.
Throughout the years – cares – smiles and fears,
She saved them in a sheaf, past daisy wheel
And golf ball type and word processor advent!
Until a day in December her Christmas gift was sent,
The slim flat box was waiting in season’s wrapping bright
She saw it as she opened the door
And on came the side wall light.
She opened it with nervousness bordering on fright
And held the  new computer, she thought
‘I’ll never get it right!’
She put it by, a week went past
And then a friend called in,
She showed it her, “Oh! Don’t despair”
Alice said and grinned.
“Sit down here, you’ll see my dear” the hour flew right by.
Twice more in a week, her Alice did teach
Then said “it’s time for you on your own to try
Come on now, get a grip!”
Ruth took the computer and opened her paper sheaf
“Oh dear”, said Ruth as she bumped the desk
Sending some to the floor in a mess
As she bent to pick them up, a yellowed one caught her eye,
It was rumpled at the edges and poor Ruth just started to cry
Oh dear, oh dear said Alice should we put it away?
No said Ruth in a trembling, I know what Miss Jane would say
I think that I will post it..! on this telekinetic screen
And yet I still do miss, that old notice board it seems,
It only feels like a morning ago 
Instead of those many long years
And so with  thin worn fingers,
yet Moving still quick for her age
She posted that poem forever,
Oh! Let’s hope she has passed that akward stage!

© Joe Maverick 11-10-2010

Copyright © Joe Maverick | Year Posted 2010

Details | Rhyme | |

The Different Teachers At A Saudi School

If you ask me, who are my favorite
Teachers at school –well, I’d say there are six;
All of them are good friends too, you know –they’re
Like a box of assorted chocolates!

Miss Latifa is Black American,
She’s the coolest expat teacher at school –
She’s like a basketball –fun to play with
But if it hits your head it might hurt –that’s
When she yells at you –if you break her rules.

Miss Sultana is from Oman. She is
Our friendly teacher in Geography –
Her smiles are as innocent as babies’
And when she speaks she does so like sweet flight
Attendants discussing airplane safety.

Miss Rasha is from Morocco, our tall
And pretty teacher who teaches us French
She may look like a Barbie doll but her
Class is like a movie that brings suspense
For the zeros we get are too intense…

Miss Heba is from Jordan. She teaches
Us Math in a very delightful way –
Although Math is a subject that I hate,
I enjoy all the games she’d let us play –
She’s like a cool breeze in a scorching day.

Teacher Mashaa’el, a Saudi local,
Teaches us Islam in the subject “Deen”.
She teaches as fast as a cheetah runs,
Yet her lessons are well-taught and clear –And
Speaks like she has a mike so all can hear!

Teacher ‘Aisha is Saudi-Syrian and
Is the most beautiful teacher at school!
In many ways she’s like a lioness
In terms of character and when she rules –
She hates fakes and students who act like fools.

They work together as a team of friends
Whose friendship is as tight as clips and glue
They’re loyal to Allah first and foremost
And faithfully obey all the school’s rules
They’re excellent leaders though they are few!

Note: This is a made-up poem, not based on any character in real life :)

Copyright © Mariam M. | Year Posted 2014

Details | Narrative | |

The Teacher and The Benny Cake

It was already twelve noon, on a Monday
the teacher was standing in the front of the class
as she was scribbling down her vocabulary friends
with her green marker against the white board
she felt her stomach rumbling for hunger like an earthquake
so she leaned toward her straw purse like a tilted seesaw
opened it as wide as a money sack 
and quickly sneaked away a  piece of benny cake 

She launched the benny cake into her mouth
like a spaceship landing on the moon
but much to her chagrin one of the students
took notice of her trickster like action
and interrogated at her asking:
“what that was you was eating?”
but she replied an answer in a very disturbed tone
much to his displeasure saying:
“why are you all so nosy, 
can’t a woman put something  in her mouth 
without you all getting into her business?”
in a very high pitch which resembled that 
of a five year old girl who refused to share her toys 

                                                                   Written by: Mia Pratt,2015
                                                                                                                                                                                   

Copyright © Mia Pratt | Year Posted 2015

Details | Light Poetry | |

The Forbidden Pumpkin Pie

“White pumpkins are an aberration,” from the pulpit cried the preacher,
As his eyes scanned the congregation before landing on the teacher.

“Pumpkins should always be orange just the way that God intended,
To have them any other way is proof Satan’s powers have been extended.”

The teacher that was new to town started squirming in the pew,
For he was growing white pumpkins in his patch but only just a few.

He had in mind to try something that no one else would ever try,
He wanted to know if it was possible to make a pure white pumpkin pie.

But now his pie experiment has been condemned as being full of sin,
And to continue on with his curiosity would only invite the devil in.

Yet the thoughts of possibilities had taken root inside his head,
And he wasn’t going to give it up no matter what the preacher said.

So he snuck out to the patch that night with orange paint and a brush,
And to each white pumpkin on the ground he gave an orange-ish blush.

And when the time had come to harvest the ivory pumpkin crop,
The teacher tried to resist but he found he couldn’t stop.

He sliced and diced and mashed and baked until the pie was made,
And then with a fork held in his hand he bowed his head and prayed.

“Dear Lord please deliver me from this dish that I’m about to eat,
For if it has been Satan’s will this pie will lead to my defeat.”

But no sign was given to him and there was only silent night,
So he shrugged his shoulders and raised his fork and then he took a bite.

They found him the next morning and they knew what made him die,
He couldn’t survive the ecstasy of eating forbidden white pumpkin pie.

“Let this stand as the teacher’s final lesson to the students that he taught,”
 The preacher cried “If you pick forbidden fruit it’s you who will get caught.”

But the kids knew that the preacher’s words were somewhat out of place,
Because they’d seen the teacher buried with a big smile on his face.

Copyright © Tony Lane | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse | |

Funny kids Moral's dilemma

The Crow and the Pitcher what is the moral of this story                                                     little boy if you throw enough stones you get what you want                                                    The Oak tree and the Reeds the little girl’s repartee                                                                    if a storm comes all at once this tells me                                                                           don’t stand among the reeds or under an oak tree                                                                                                            The Hare and the Tortoise the little boy answers with a nod                                                                      If you going to bet make sure you know the odds                                                                                          The Fox without Tail The little girl quips to the tale                                                                                       if you set enough traps you get all kinds of tails                                                                                           An ant and a Grasshopper the little boy begins to toll                                                                           that greedy ant always leaves the grasshopper to die in the cold                                                                  Morals are only as good as the answers

Copyright © John Beam | Year Posted 2015