Symphony of School Supplies
The school bell's chorus wakes a drowsy room,
Sunlight spills, a golden, dusty plume.
Desks, once dormant, morph to galleons grand,
Ready to set sail to each uncharted land.
Chalk, a spectral hand, whispers wisdom's lore,
Unveiling mysteries on the darkened shore.
Sharpeners gnash their teeth, devouring leaden dreams,
Leaving silver whispers where logic's spotlight beams.
Globes, like captive Earths, continents in hold,
Beckon's curious minds, stories yet untold.
Maps unfurl, adventures waiting to ignite,
Mountains pierce the paper, bathed in imagined light.
Scissors, silver storks with beaks of silent snip,
Carve out thoughts like snowflakes, on a question's icy lip.
Crayons, waxy rainbows, melt on paper's plain,
Birthing vibrant jungles, where creatures rule their reign.
Pencils, graphite serpents, coil with inky grace,
Weaving tales fantastical, across time and space.
Rulers, stoic guardians, lines etched firm and true,
Marking boundaries where dreams and logic accrue.
Erasers, gentle guardians, with a patient touch,
Whisper soft forgiveness, a lesson learned so much.
Puppets dance on fingers, with stories in their eyes,
Of pirates, and princesses, beneath invented skies.
Chart paper, a canvas, vast and white and bare,
Awaits the brushstrokes of imagination's flair.
Microscopes, with a curious gaze, reveal unseen worlds,
Tiny hidden wonders, like poems yet unfurled.
Bells chime once more, a day complete and free,
But echoes linger still, where knowledge sets us free.
Rulers, maps, and globes, a symphony they weave,
Of knowledge, dreams, and wonder, lessons minds believe.
March 20, 2024
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