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!
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