What do you do all day, I wonder
When you're not teaching me at school
You have no ring on your left finger
And you always cling to that rule(r)
You speak as if we are listening
I admit you seem nice enough
Do you enjoy your current life
Or is it lonely, boring, tough?
Although for science you have such a passion
You look lonely, at least to me
I'm sure you must have a family
But do you have family you often see?
You talk and talk and talk
Do you think that I understand?
(My eyes are getting tired
But still I move my hand)
What do you do at home, I wonder
Do you live all alone?
No wonder you spend so much time here
You have an empty home
Copyright © Juli- Michelle | Year Posted 2013
Eyes of Seminary – Zamreen Zarook
Every day in our lives has different fragrance,
God give us various things in abundance,
Day by day knowledge is gained in accordance,
Things depend according to the attendance.
Two years of studies,
Helped us to come out with various abilities,
Extremely joyful moments with buddies,
But life said every aspect has its boundaries.
Teachers become very friendly,
They approach us very kindly,
They speak on us exaggeratedly,
Because they know, if not we might behave badly.
Big shots in the school boundary,
These are years of foundry,
It helped us to find and go for laundry,
Marvelous days, fully packed with sundry.
Various angles the kith and kins are civilized,
It’s because our knowledge is enhanced,
Guys and girls turned well experienced,
That’s why we call it levels of advanced.
Copyright © Zamreen Zarook | Year Posted 2013
A new photograph floats to the surface
Playfully dressing up as the world around me
Hat, striped socks and all
Tiptoeing at the top for one last sweet moment
Before sinking back into my ocean mind.
One after another they arrive
Steeping my eyes in the world
As the minds shutter, ever fluttering
Strings together this conscious stream I play in.
My photographs fade in time’s wrinkled arms.
Joining their brothers and sisters at the ocean floor,
They hold hands and try to answer the question that is always asking itself:
Who am I?
Copyright © Jacob Reinhardt | Year Posted 2013
Stirring twice daily, cross nation and state,
At sunrise and set, gobbling children as bait.
Hot days or cold—matters not to these beasts,
Who inhale then spit out, our young and our meek.
Powerless, we watch and groan as they move,
Lights flashing to warn, and mess with our mood.
Frustration, impatience—both held in check,
My daily commute, now a train wreck.
Yet somewhere inside, not talked about much,
Reassurance young lives, today will be touched.
By the monster a prowl, on streets in our town,
To make the round trips, for schools they surround.
It's by faith we let go, as our little ones step,
Aboard as today's lessons, by teachers are prepped.
One last prayer for favor, and no dangerous fuss,
As they ride in the Ogre, we call a school bus.
Copyright © Michael Wegman | Year Posted 2015
She walked into the third grade classroom late
It was a most depressing day
It was her 60th birthday
She has been single her entire life and lives in a small apartment with her feline friend Tiger
She has no children of her own but she has these…
These are the children of her third grade class
Her students took the broken pieces of chalk and had written
HAPPY BIRTHDAY & SURPRISE JONESY all over the chalkboard
They were delighted with their homemade decorations
Three children brought in the brightest red apples and placed them on her desk
Another brought her a bright red rose
There were also two very creatively wrapped gifts on her desk
Her heart was moved by the hearts of her children
She didn’t realize they knew it was her big day
She just stood at the front of the room with her petticoat and wool hat
Surprised and speechless she thanked God for her kids
She wouldn't trade them for anything in the universe
It was her 60th birthday and she didn't have to spend it alone!
Written by Gwendolen Rix
Poem based upon Norman Rockwell’s famous painting “Teacher’s Surprise” for The Saturday Evening Post
Copyright © Gwendolen Rix | Year Posted 2014
Primary school was all about playing
Around the place I was jumping
Within the yard was I running
Without time for reading
I played to pass examination
The primary school mentality
Move with me even affecting my civility
To the point that I eluded reality
Thinking, there was no reality
But the day dawned when I had a regression
In my education
Then, reading was the only solution
To the present situation
I read to pass examination
But the higher I go
The more I realize I have to stand on my toe
If at all I would want to glow
But, oh ! I did glow
Reading was now metamorphosed to studying
Since the situation now requires more than reading
Because the situation requires one energizing
In other to keep success acquiring
I now study to pass examination
I wonder; what will happen on my next level?
Copyright © Emerho O. Samuel | Year Posted 2014
My father and my mother sat me down one day
to tell me how wonderful that I was growing O.K.
The years passes by as I got to be a teenager
with high hopes of becoming the first young manager
Life turns out a manager job is not for me
so I kept things to a minimum working hard you see
My family had taught me with all do respect
the life we lead is the image of our age in an aspect
Like queens and kings we bow our head
to the people who is wiser in age even when dead
Life as our guide the time we have aged
is what we leave behind that we are gaged
In prospective we are the stars and we are the earth
because we age and leave behind a new birth
To those that seek such blessing of heart
remember this age is respect for living from the start
Do you remember your father, mother, and teachers
they are the ones cheering you on, sitting on those bleachers
Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013
The sensations I feel, the sensations I see
Will I be free or will they agree
Tomorrow's not promised and Jesus Saves,
will my heart understand or will I be brave?
I look to His word and I look into their eyes,
I want more than I can have which only leads
To good byes, a child with no parents, a brain
With only a thirst, never wanting to be left
Alone in the dark.
Copyright © Kayla Sullivan | Year Posted 2015