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Couplet Teacher Poems | Couplet Poems About Teacher

These Couplet Teacher poems are examples of Couplet poems about Teacher. These are the best examples of Couplet Teacher poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Couplet |

Short Stuff

You were always happy, always on the move
with a great zest for life and a heart full of love.

We loved you too and checked to see if you’d get mad
if we mimicked your habits, but you laughed instead.

When we were in school together, you often horsed around;
I ribbed you about eye trouble, eyes too close to the ground. 

You lived life with gusto, knowing your time was short;
playing hard, working harder, often with a jolly retort.

Honest to a fault, you saw the positive side of things;
kept things in order, solid rock with no mood swings.

Cut off jeans, gray tee shirt, tinted glasses, baseball hat;
great big grin, teasing quip, a big hello, a friendly chat.

You were the best teacher any student ever had;
I could call on you to help as though you were my dad.

You drove my school bus on many a winter morn;
dressed in brown coveralls, bottom legs frayed and worn.

You were there in summer, helping coach baseball games;
at football with your camera or turning cartwheels in the gym.

You taught us how to care, how to study, how to play;
how to work on the computer and make the most of every day.

So determined to learn, spending hours at a throw;
self-teaching all the things a teacher needed to know.

You are the poem of my life, who you were tells the tale;
your poem will last forever, healing memories never pale.

You wrote the words of this poem, pages of my life tell the story;
you will read them back to me, when we meet again in glory.

Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet |

Violin Virtuoso

When he played his violin magic took place!
A sense of serenity shown on his face.

A lover of music so gifted in art...
A teacher to many, known for his sweet heart.

Poetry would become his passion, his need...
A master of poetry in the words that he freed.

The strings are now quiet with music no more.
Still students recall the teacher they adore.

His words we can cherish with fond memories...
A legacy of gems for new reveries.

© Connie Marcum Wong

Bittersweet Contest - 6th placement out of 6
Sponsor Kevin Shaw

*Dedicated to my dear friend and late poet, David Austin

Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2017

Details | Couplet |

The Passionate Teacher to His Student

Come be with me and be my student,
And we will start an improvement
To crime and corruption, killing and bullying
And all other demonic doings
There will we be on the top
And see our nation fills the gap
By you as future leader, to whom I care
Failing us, please never dare
There will I teach you to be an avenger
And to be this nation’s super defender
A man of powers, and faith
Destined to save this generation’s fate

A man that will not to be fooled
With a mind as your number one tool
Heir of earth when we are old
With a future as bright as gold

A pen and paper as your weapons
Without giving any harm and destructions
And if these are will be used
This place will be better not only good

Correct the past and my generation’s fault
Do not let it to continue its growth
For you to suffer is not to be
Save this earth for thee and me

The world shall celebrate whether to dance or sing,
For there are changes that you can bring
If these changes will improve a lot
Then come be with me and be my student

Copyright © Mckhy Styx Mallari | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet |

An Elephant in School

That’s not my elephant, the second graders said to their teacher.
Elephants are too big; they’re not our kind of creature.

We like fierce alligators with thick-green armored scales;
long pointed teeth, strong jaws, and spiked whipping tails.

We like chimpanzees that live high in forest trees
that swing from branches and hang by their hairy knees.

What good is a flop-eared elephant who recites
the whole “Constitution” and “Bill of Rights”?

The teacher looked puzzled; somewhat perplexed,
she wasn’t quite sure of what to say next.

Elephants never forget the teacher returned;
their huge brain stores everything they’ve learned.

Ella the elephant just stood there in a striking pose.
Well, can you suck spaghetti up with your nose?

Copyright © 2011 By Caryl S. Muzzey	

Copyright © Caryl Muzzey | Year Posted 2010

Details | Couplet |

Punkchewayshun and Spelling

Such a grammar fiend, is this thing called punctuation.
A huge plethora of mind numbing aggravation.

Commas, periods and parenthesis too;
colons and semicolons; what's a writer to do?

In spelling, I used to make only straight A's.
Now I blow up spell check most every day.

I could avoid punctuation; write only Haiku,
but I'm no quitter; to myself I must be true.

My teacher always told me, "If you can't spell a word,
look it up in the dictionary." Silliest thing I ever heard.

All the words are there in column after column,
but, how to look them up, if you can't even spellum?!

Copyright © Arlene Smith | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet |


Tell me, why does God make puddles, in our driveway, when it rains?
Then mom says "play but, don't get dirty, cuz I won't get out the stains"

God made me, to love that feeling, of jumping in them with both feet
I'll send that water flying, maybe as high as mom and daddy's seat

Then mom yells "girl you know better, look at the mess you've made
Our clothes and shoes, filthy, wet and dirty, like a monkey in the arcade

This child constantly tries my patience, dear God why is she such a pest?
Astonished by Gods answer “when teaching lessons, I use my very best”

Copyright © Tom Larrow | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet |

My Love Teacher

I watch him how he talks to her.
He pleases her without demur.
He hasn't said one cruel word,
As if he lives in angels' world.
He is indeed a walking one.
He is naive and full of fun.
I feel ashamed when him I see,
Show greater love than poor me.
I've always thought I love her more,
Than words can tell or explore.
He loves his mom beyond compare.
I haven't seen such love and care.
I think he has no equal  teacher,
Although he is a tiny creature.
I love to watch this kind of love.
This is my child I'm so proud of.


Copyright © OMAR JABAK | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet |

To My Brother, A True Teacher

Ah who will follow Seamus 
And walk where he has been
From 28 Mellows Avenue
To football on the green. 

I could not take the road he 
From Finglas to East Wall
A dedicated life to those
Not ready to heed the call

To step outside the comfort 
what they believe is 
To light the lamp in fertile 
So long entrapped in traditional 

Copyright © Joe Murphy | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet |


"That's not my elephant!" You could hear her say,
As quickly she ran, caught on film, heading this way.

The 2nd graders all laughed as they watched the movie,
Many of them thought it was really "Groovee."

For this was a film shot of their teacher Ms. Ella,
Whose performance in it was anything but stellar.

She was running for her life as the big bull feigned his charge,
The one she was supposed to ride wasn't nearly that large.

But it made for a good chuckle when she showed her class
The home movie of her trip to India's Kyber Pass.

Soon it was lunchtime...the cafeteria line was fun
As they laughed about how fast their teacher could run.

Spaghetti was on the bill of fare
Passing it up...one wouldn't dare.

Because they would need all their energy tonight
They had a test coming on the Bill of Rights.

Ms. Ella was a good teacher and her kids liked her a lot
But her tests were difficult as if she had some plot.

She would send them home with work to do,
But they learned from her film, not everything is work too.

Copyright © Daniel Cwiak | Year Posted 2010

Details | Couplet |

Teacher of Pain

             teacher of pain 

         why do you stay?

         I had my lesson 

                     for today.

     You tore the last shreds

             of my dreams
    you heard the last

          of    tortured   screams,

         Hoarse and huddled
                  in the rain

    why do you turn to me ...again?

Copyright © Johnette Loefgren | Year Posted 2006

Details | Couplet |


A young boy who’d been told often enough of the virtues of honesty,
Resolved to tread the same path even in difficulty.

He decided he’d never tell lie nor steal things,
Love all those around him, be they paupers or kings.

He knew the path he’d chosen was going to be tough,
And the journey he had initiated was going to be rough.

But his resolve was firm and his mind was set,
He wanted to find the truth in the advice that he’d never forget.

Saying so, he walked forth, never to turn back again,
To bear all that befell, sunshine or rain.

But how was he to know of the hardships to come,
For advices are not to be followed, only to be given by some.

The very next day at school, the teacher asked him a question he didn’t know,
He refused to cheat, even when proffered to so.

So he was beaten by his teacher for his ignorance,
But he bore his first reward of honesty with forbearance.

And later in the day when his teacher asked him if he had taught well,
He replied honestly, that he thought it was worse than hell.

The teacher was infuriated by his remark hence,
And he was beaten again for his insolence.

He uttered not a cry nor did he complain,
The path of righteousness was difficult to him it was plain.

When back at home his mother asked him how he’d fared at school that day,
His honest reply infuriated her straightaway.

So he was beaten once again,
The poor boy, his honesty did not go in vain.

And then, while playing his team decided to cheat,
But he was honest enough to point it out to the kids across the street.

Furious now his teammates told him to quit the field,
From their wrath, his honesty did not shield.

But the poor fellow bore it with courage and goodwill,
It was a small price for honesty, he decided still.

And when in the evening, he had guests at his place,
He honestly told them they’re a great nuisance on their face.

This remark annoyed his father no end,
And the poor fellow was grounded for the weekend.

All his agonies made him realise with tact,
That advices look good only in books is a fact.

Copyright © Akanksha Singh | Year Posted 2011

Details | Couplet |

A Tribute to my Teachers

I love and respect my teachers for their guidance,
As they gave me knowledge in abundance.
Whenever I was surrounded by darkness,
They filled my path with brightness.
To make me reach greater height,
They enlightened me with all their might.
Nurturing with endless love, care and affection,
I was made to move ahead with motivation.
Today in my life, I have the access,
To be a teacher and this is a grand success.
 I hereby pay my due respect,
And salute all my teachers from every aspect.
So, on this special day of the year,
For them all I am here,
To wish them a HAPPY TEACHERS’ DAY,
In my own very special way.
-	Mahua Chopra
                        Nagpur, India

Copyright © Mahua Chopra | Year Posted 2016

Details | Couplet |

Animuse the trickster

The spider the first to deceive                                                                                                                                           The untangled web in the tree                                                                                                                                      A man, a beast, a spirit to teach                                                                                                                                            A hero, an enemy or wisdom’s breach                                                                                                                                      Just an elder’s story, to shape the youth                                                                                                                    shifting children’s minds to their view                                                                                                                              or a struggle between creator and the created                                                                                                             A rabbit to chase or the raven’s stone berated                                                                                                               The laughing coyote or wise as the fox they do change                                                                                                     whisperers, skin walkers, wind talkers the stories remain                                                                                          wisdom coming from strange creatures, yet familiar visitors                                                                                                         Be careful of what you have learned, that it is not a trick sir

Copyright © John Beam | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet |



If my game is to  be judged, let it be in  the way
I  hesitatingly judge other people’s play. 
Perhaps  the ultimate judgement of my game
Will  be merely a replica of my own past – the same.

When I judge a child or even an adult
I  allow for all the pressures  difficult  
And every  opportunity   and gift
Which were thrust upon him swift.

And then I try to assess how  well he did.
A teacher  likes an  always-does-his-best  kid.
What about the smart kid who doesn’t have to try?
No teacher I know will judge this kid very high.

In card-playing terms,  it’s understood:
Did he play his hand the best way he could?
All bridge players know from contending 
That a hand is a winner or a loser depending

Not on king, queen, ace or  other boss card,
But  on who plays it with skill  - and  how hard.
After all, the cards come to us at random
And  we must  take them and use them with wisdom.

No such thing as fate or luck or chance.
Chance always favours the prepared stance.
That seems only fair to me:  and if to me, then
Hopefully  also  to the Ultimate Judge of men. 

If I am wrong, and the final summation 
Of my life is measured with a different gradation,
Then I feel  that  there probably was no Creation:
And  there is  no  Ultimate Judge.  It is all imagination.

Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2011

Details | Couplet |

Substitute Teacher Horn KISS Poem

Serve as Substitute Teacher

(Is it either sensational or sensuous soupical?)

Recently heard according to latest scoop
Everyone thoroughly enjoys Poetry Soup
Promiscuous Souper some want to become
But sex in soup sure sounds kind of dumb.

If a pathetic Souper is who you now are
Better have many more rounds at the bar
Until lower level your poems have sunk
When under table you found yourself drunk.

Understand much longer we all will live
If from vocabulary eliminate each expletive
Not evil but success will discover the route
Hiring great teachers serving as a substitute.  

Copyright © James Horn | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet |

Teacher Beware

With a lover’s look, she gave a smile
No innocence upon this child
She knew for sure of her effect
As the teacher then had become…nervous

No need to be alone within the class
For rumors then would spread so fast
The teacher then would be out of luck
Because the pupil wanted to…cause trouble

Inspired by The Police song, Don’t Stand.

Copyright © Michael Degenhardt | Year Posted 2008

Details | Couplet |

The Train

The wedding guests arrive, several share a room
on a dependable wayfarer’s kind of train.

A group of boys come, students of both bride and groom,
orphans, a troop requiring strong passion to train.

A dozen white roses with ribbons of chartreuse
will recognize each lad’s role in this wedding train.

Taking their spots assigned, each conscious of his cues,
when the bride appears, three will serve to bear her train.

Anxious bride stands watch, wanting the music to start. 
Six voices harmonize, voices she'd worked to train.

She spots her groom, sensing the racing of her heart
Two escorts take her hands, her thoughts elsewhere, off-train.

Preceding her down the long aisle, the youngest lad
proudly carries two gold rings and a model train.

Bride and groom purpose to be orphans’ mom and dad, 
living, working, schooling on a Green Arrow train. 

couplets written February 3, 2017

Copyright © Reason A. Poteet | Year Posted 2017