Email Poem

Your IP Address: 3.148.210.152
Your Email Address:
To Email Address:
Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
You were my least liked teacher,
                    ball of fire
        Your red tresses bouncing,
              your flaming ire
          When misspelled words
                      in ash 
                    dust white
         That blackboard smoked, 
             your burning might
       Of lazy penned words written
                       lame
      Though, you never shared the 
                      names 
         It was so often clear to see
         The guilty squirm in misery

       You calculated with your eyes
                   Guilt verdict 
                  with no alibies.
                And, oh! so often
                     it was me
                    I'd hide if I 
                  could ever be
          Small as tissue, in the trash
         With burning cheeks, on face
                       of ash

        OH! You made me very mad
       The toughest teach I ever had
      But then you introduced to class
       A golden gift to this young lass
     You spoke, "Now we'll do poetry!"
       A subject that was dear to me

      I looked for beauty in the place
               I'd always felt was
                    a disgrace
    I missed the green hills and the bay
                I missed the joys
                   of San Jose
                But look, I must,
                for beauty there
      The desert land that felt so bare

       'Out in the desert, late at night'
         My little hand began to write
              ' The coyotes sing,
                crickets keep beat 
        Cool night's joy, replaces heat
      The owl sets out on nightly quest
            "Who, whoo's my meal?" 
                   ever his jest
             The man in the moon 
                witnessed escapes
                     Wild dashes 
             for thorn bush drapes
                 The merry stars 
               with twinkling eyes 
          Laughed at the hoot owl's 
                   great surprise
         Kangaroo rat leaps in delight
        Out in the desert late at night'

                Teacher, the warmth 
                     that I found 
                     in your eyes
                   When you wrote
                       my poem
                to my utter surprise
            In a gentle running script,
                        a hush
                  Fell on our class, 
               as I started to blush
  
               Dear teacher kept me 
                     after class
                    "Well done!"  
                       said she 
                 to this young lass
                     
                    Oh, Teacher! 
              Your sweet gift I hold
                 Your refiner's fire,
                  refining our gold
                   I held your gift, 
                  and, in my heart,
                      I let it burn, 
                  and play its part
           
                     I promised 
                    and studied, 
                 all that summer
               You taught me to be 
                  an overcomer
                  For in the fall
               With summer past
                 I was top speller
                    in my class
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required