On Writing And Words Teacher Poems | On Writing And Words Poems About Teacher
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Beauty of nature
Why condense it down to God?
Isn’t life enough?
Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013
To see cute faces
And their innocent sweet smiles
Wonderland it is
Angels to play with
To be playful is a must
Friendly is needed
Tell them how to show love
Singing, reading and counting
So thrilled when they laugh
It wasn’t my goal
But I’m inspired by pure souls
Teacher is I am
By: Dinda Minardi
Copyright © Dinda Minardi | Year Posted 2011
I was told to write
But i didn't know what to say.
All i did was sit there,
all darn day.
My thoughts were all jumbled,
they made no since at all.
My teacher told us to write.
I said " i will be here until nightfall.
She told me to open my heart
to explore, search, and find,
that one thing that would make me write.
By now i had that one thing in mind.
So i sat there and wrote all hour.
I never missed a beat.
By the time my story was done
I knew that we would meet.
Soon but not soon enough
did my dreams finally come true.
And i can't wait for that day.
When i get to be with you.
Forever is a long time they say.
But don't they know.
You can spend for ever with a person,
and there will be things about them that you don't know.
How i wish for that day to come.
Hoping i will be with you.
I will stand by you forever,
knowing my dreams have come true.
So, i sat there and i looked at my paper,
looked at my teacher and said with all my might.
I should have never listened to myself,
when I said I couldn't write.
Copyright © Tessa Chinery | Year Posted 2012
I wanted to be a writer
When I was just a young teen
But I was so incredibly shy
And kids can be so mean.
Then a new teacher came along.
He had such a different view.
I no longer felt embarrassed
By the writing that I'd do.
He made me feel I had a gift
And that it should be shared.
To him I admitted my hopes
And I felt that he really cared.
Mr. Sowden encouraged extra work,
To write about whatever we wanted.
So I wrote and wrote and wrote some more.
The words just flew, undaunted.
My grade ten English teacher
Read my work out loud
And winked when the class applauded,
For the first time I felt proud.
I never signed my real name.
The class didn't know it was me
But my work garnered admiration,
On display for all to see.
That was the year I learned that
What I wrote was pretty good.
I just needed time for confidence to grow
And that, Mr. Sowden, understood.
He made us see the written word
In a way that made us aware.
So I would like to thank him,
The English teacher who really did care.
Copyright © Francine Roberts | Year Posted 2010