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Best Teachers Day Poems | Poetry

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Nostalgia and Teachers Day 2 by CHUAN SENG, KENG
Nostalgia and Teachers' Day by CHUAN SENG, KENG
Happy teachers day by sitoleh, vedanjali

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The Best Teachers Day Poems

Details | Teachers Day Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Tribute to Teachers - Constanza

 Tribute to Teachers - Constanza

Upon my soapbox I protest
    that teachers schooling young and old,
    be honored like they're made of gold.

How small in payment we invest
    with expectations raised sky high,
    still, underpaid we can't deny.

For educators, my request,
    to legislate to change the laws
    for student ratios just cause.

In government we do divest
    to raise the bar in public schools;
    give teachers much more needed tools

and raise all pay at their behest!
    Without these changes I do fear
    few will want a teaching career.


Upon my soapbox I protest
how small in payment we invest
For educators, my request,
In government we do divest
and raise all pay at their behest!

6-20-2018

©Connie Marcum Wong

Constanza Contest ~Second Place~
Sponsor Emile Pinet 

*Dedicated to my daughter and son 
who are educators.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2018


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Childhood Inequality In School

Some children come into the school building dancing, singing, hopping, bursting with uninhibited glee.
They exchange giddy, happy stories about their day at the mall, dropping name brand names,
Showing off their glittery light-up shoes, and light up back packs.  They tell about their doting grandparents who allowed them to fill their cart up.  Money is not a consideration in their world. They are unaware of paying for utilities, or groceries, or gas for cars. No one yells at them when their hamburger costs a dollar.  For all they know, the loot they got at the mall was free. They do not
Have any idea the card they saw slide through a machine means someone is paying real money later. They live in an adult-free zone. They are not burdened with who is sleeping with whom, who did someone wrong, who stole the car from their ex. They have been allowed to be children, uninhibited by things like that. 

Other children come into the building ready to kill someone. They have had a sleepless night, listening to their adults screaming and fighting, wishing the unusually loud violent music will eventually drowned them out, but it does not. They lie awake, hypervigilant, thinking of the loaded revolver on top of the refrigerator, wondering who will be the first to pull it out, wondering if they will have time to get out, not thinking about saving a little brother or sister, still angry about them being there in the first place, taking food out of their mouth.

This child is angry, defensive, on guard, completely enraged by the time his parent has gotten up, gotten dressed, gotten someone to give them a ride, and gotten him to school the first day an hour late.  He has been reminded all the way to school that the teachers are the enemy,  not to be trusted, that they will look for the worst in him, and they will find it.  He is completely stirred up by the time they arrive.

As they walk toward the building the mother is reminding him not to share the family business, not to tell the school people his address, not to mention they do not have running water, and certainly not to mention how many people they have living with them.  If he does, the punishment will be severe, maybe even worse than last time.

He does not have a uniform, but the school personnel rally and get him one. He does not have school supplies either. They give him a back pack filled with notebooks, pencils, erasers, everything they will need. The mother glares at the lady and tells her they wanted a brand name back pack.  He is amazed, surprised that his mother cares.  His mother tries to bully the school into giving him something better, so he can see how he is expected to treat these people.  He watches, silently, understanding.

An unappreciative thank you is muttered under the breath of the mother, in an exasperated way, as if the shoddy brand new backpack was not quite good enough, but it will do.  The child is in the bathroom now, putting on the uniform, away from the prying eyes of the enemies.  He is glad no one can see the scars. What he does not realize is, school teachers have been trained, they all see these scares, and they semi-understand why he is so angry with the singing, hopping, bursting with glee students, one of whom he hurts almost immediately.

Still, it is not allowed or tolerated, and if he could tell the enemy things, they might be able to help. But of course he cannot, and the school enemy people understand that too.  They have met his mother.







Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


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MY MATH TEACHER

My math teacher was such a colorful character
she was the queen of Mathematics at our school
she loved linear regressions and probability
and permutations and combinations too!

My math teacher loved to
entertain us with her Listerine coated smile
and her heart as pure
as the golden sand on Small Hope Bay
she loved making calculus and matrices fun for us
while March 14th was her second Christmas
and grading our exams was her New Year's Day!

My math teacher
was the mathematician we all loved
she painted each of us, her darling students
like sons, daughters and even siblings of  her own
while her favorite words to us were: "y'all stop bein' slow!"
and always told us humorous stories 
and rhymes every class like a calypsonian 
in her voice similar to a sixteen year old


My math teacher disliked when
we made her stress level and nerves
race as high as a thermometer
and having her queen bee status under attack
made her spoke in colourful tongues
I couldn't describe !

To us Mathematics is often hard to comprehend
this argument maybe true
but my math teacher always made this subject
feel like a beach day on Blue Lagoon Island!

My math teacher 
was the mathematician we all loved
she loved when we called her the greatest 
mathematician to ever grace the earth 
since the great Pythagoras 
because it made her blush like
the pink grains of sand 
on a beach in Harbour Island !

                                                                          

   
                                                                    Written by: Mia Pratt, 2014




Copyright © Mia Pratt | Year Posted 2016


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a school maths exam

People not knowing fidget, look around the room knocking the table as they cradle their heads.
People knowing frantically write their thoughts, feet planted, eyes crossed with creases as information is translated from the calculator to their sheet.
Elbows, forearms planted on the desk occasionally, unconsciously scratching ears.
Cutting the air is a cough, a sniff, a paper being flicked, people moving in chairs.
The walls don’t stop the echo of the teacher next door, muffled voices of people.
Pens down. Slap! The pencil hits the table, the race has finished, who won.


Copyright © Lewis Raynes | Year Posted 2015


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Ode to a Terrific Teacher

He opens learners’ hearts with the key of kindness;
passionately plant in them the seeds of success
and watch them grow in the garden of greatness.
Talk about a terrific teacher.

He wields words from the wellspring of wisdom
to water worm-wheat in the field of freedom...
and shield them from the throne of thralldom;
Talk about a terrific teacher.

He tells his students the lore of love and life,
and the right use of rocket, rifle and knife 
to save them from baseless storms and strife;
Talk about a terrific teacher.

He wakes up each day with this golden goal:
To tenderly touch each pupil's spirit and soul,
and make their broken bones worthy and whole.
Talk about a terrific teacher.

He prays for each pupil to have an honourable heart,
out of which will flow the beauty of eternal art
so they can be sincere, sensible and smart.
Talk about a terrific teacher.

He is a mentor with a matchless mission,
practicing what he preaches with pure passion;
his friends are spurred to have a vibrant vision.
Talk about a terrific teacher.

When winter’s wool and whirlwind betide,
and the streams of life roar in stormy tide;
he gives warm words to guard and guide...
Talk about a terrific teacher.

Examination is not just a test of intelligence;
it is also a test of creativity and confidence...
his students enjoy inspiring independence.
Talk about a terrific teacher.

In poor pupils, he see a pool of great possibilities,
he teaches them to tap from the oasis of opportunities
springing in their desert of difficulties...
Talk about a terrific teacher.

Some folks are only interested in high income;
he looks out for inspiring inputs and learning outcome...
his job is to make the future bright and awesome.
Talk about a terrific teacher.


Copyright © Adeleke Adeite | Year Posted 2016


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A Terrific Teacher

I am the custodian of brighter future
and the vanguard of a viable venture.
I take seekers on an alluring adventure.
Nature has given me the grace to nurture...
I am a terrific teacher.

I am the silent star that sleeps not at night,
the sun that make beautiful days bright...
I give sweet glow to the moon at twilight...
Lightening up the world is my greatest delight.
I am a terrific teacher.

I am always expected to do the miraculous:
students expect me to be gentle and generous...
rash parents sometimes tell me the ridiculous
yet my pay check makes nobody feel jealous.
I am a terrific teacher.

I inspire greatness and ignite creativity...
my words and thoughts instill integrity.
I see distinct ability in every disability
and spark the fire of academic alacrity. 
I am a terrific teacher. 

I preen with passion on priceless pages
to mend the minds where rot rages.
With love and life as my core languages...
I spur the spirit of compassionate sages.
I am a terrific teacher.

Beyond the grades scored in examinations...
beyond the goals of United Nations;
I provide real answers to unasked questions
and give hope to unborn generations.
I am a terrific teacher.


Copyright © Adeleke Adeite | Year Posted 2016


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THANK YOU TEACHER

Thank You Teacher

Commemorating
All sacrifices
That these people made
In everyone’s lives
Should be then honored.

“Thank you teacher!”
A gratitude
From deep within.
For they deserve…

Love, respect
Warm salute!!!

This World
Teachers’

Day!


Copyright © Lei Strauss | Year Posted 2015


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Thanking The Gardener

You stand in front of a garden so vast
You gave a smile that could shame the great sun
You went to the young roses, as you must
You water them with knowledge, like you can
The roses you see almost everyday
You truly do care for them so dearly
You tell them great stories to make their day
And you always do it wholeheartedly
One time you pick a few, we pricked your hand
It hurts so much, so we ask forgiveness
I wish it will not hurt this genuine bond
That will be destroyed by our thorned progess
I want to say a million thanks to whom
Made the beautiful roses greatly bloom


Copyright © Crissa Mae | Year Posted 2015


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LEARNING

Let the minnd be free to understand
Education is beyond the written print
Allow everyone to find their own answer
Remember the book is just useful tool
Never under estimate a person mind
It is able to fully grasp what it needs
Nothing is taught how the brain develops
Gifts of knowledge is giving by the mind


Copyright © john doherty | Year Posted 2015


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Nostalgia and Teachers' Day

Through the long gone years, I have much grown…
From a young schoolboy to a present day aging crone…

But in my mind, I am as I have always been…
All through the years and after all that I have seen..

Now that I am trying to frame some nice phrases with a theme..
It refreshes fading memories and some forgotten dreams…

It intrigues me and it is refreshing to acknowledge Teachers’ Day…
For their care and guidance in molding all students’ ways…

I am who I am today at this juncture of time and my life…
As every other man or woman if they choose to reflect on individual  lives....

I remember still the draconian Arithmatics teacher…
Her angry screams and tongue lashings came in large numbers…

I still recall certain friends whose faces and names I have long forgotten…
Their miseries and sufferings when in came this lady teacher for numbers…

Vividly I remember her insufferable fury at one boy, a chronic underperformer..
We felt his inadequacies, mixing b’s and d’s as typical of a learning disorder…

Back then, who was to know there exist victims to this thing called dyxlesia..
Back then,  to spare the rod was something alien in any classroom in Malaysia…

On a happier note there was once another teacher unlike any other…
Sad to say, her name I have long forgotten, yet somehow I still remember…

How much I believed it when she regularly remarked in my term report card..
Talkative in class but can still improve was her comment that she penned in my card….

I dimly remember still how my big sister, bless her soul, used to to have a huge laugh…
Each time she had to explain to my uneducated parents about my performance in class…

There was also this tall scrawny Indian teacher, dressed daily in long white pants…
A long slim 3 foot rattan cane ever readily concealed in those long white pants…

As discipline master,  he religiously tolerated no nonsense from students in all matters…
And when he in class for his Arithmatics lessons, all students shuddered yet remembered…

I remembered distinctly the sting when out flashed his cane and thundered down our palms…
For each schoolboy wrong, many a classmate quivered in terror once he started to rant…

Many other teachers too , long forgotten,  labored and struggled over all those junior years …
As little school boys and girls, we gradually progressed into our teens over those same years.. 


To be continued ...part 2





Copyright © KENG CHUAN SENG | Year Posted 2015


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To Teacher With Love

You taught me to love, 
You taught me to learn,
And here I build, I try to earn,
These wings which with I'll soar above.. 

Virtue not vice you taught me to sow, 
Each day thus wiser you saw me grow, 
You promise your care for the shoots we are,
Your nurture is rare that makes us who we are.. 

Your wisdom true and safe, 
I held in place,
And saw aglow,  pride's gaze 
Light over a mother's face.. 

Your strength enlivenes in my heart,
A luminous candle in the dark, 
A melody, a remedy a hand to hold on, 
Upon your shoulders i am made strong.. 

Ignited, i am empowered, 
Appreciated, i am motivated, 
Acknowledged, i am emboldened, 
Beautiful.. I am made golden 

To Teacher with love ;this letter, small and sweet.. 
Dedicate I; life's riches, wishes and dreams.. 


Copyright © Sofiya V William | Year Posted 2016


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TEACHERS

Teaching fervently in the class
You are a guide and model for exams to pass
As you train children to click on your lesson
Hence to copy your devotion

They download from the web of your server
All that they find in their favour
All in a spirit of love from what you teach
Inspiring them in hopes and dreams to reach.

In all kindness you draw their attention
And sow the seed of motivation
And delete all their negative feelings
So to save in their files only positive dealings.

You edit their work in all fairness
To insert tools to do their best
Your efficency icons on the screen
Are for them to select what they need.

Most impressive is the ambience
They perform with confidence
Mesmerised by your perseverence
Thanks for your competence.

You condition their growing years
And gain many supporters
In making smarter so many teenagers
And producing useful workers
Their carreer so well engineered
Till you grow grey hair and  beard
So you are special on TEACHERS' DAY
For your goodness we all pray


Copyright © Beejadhur Sewumber | Year Posted 2016


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Lickety Split

L ittle voices, rising in volume and pitch
I mploring teacher, begs all available aids to help pop 
C oats, hats, muffs, mitts, sweaters, gloves, socks, shoes, and boots on 39
K indergarten urchins who are galloping around the room, or jumping on ball 
         chairs. 

E veryone is excited; the snow is falling and 
T he five-year-olds woke up screaming with excitement, 
Y elling their head dendrites off, dancing and galloping

S ix ways to Sunday, and it’s only Tuesday, 
P rincipal skates into the room,  “Lickety Split!” she yells.
“L et’s all help, and get them out there quick!” The 2nd grade teacher sticks in 
             her head to hollar, 
“I ce will be here within the hour.  Everybody help.” A bunch of 4th and 5th 
              graders run in to help dress 
t hem. Seconds later, the worn-out Kindergarten 

Teacher throws out a magic lasso, and 39 kindergarteners all grab hold. The next minute, they 
                  land in a big snow drift.
“Lickety, lickety, yickety, bickety, pickety, split!” they all yell, running away in every conceivable direction.


			Prepared for Lickety Split Contest
                                  Debbie Guzzi  Written 4-9-2018
			Unless it’s closed, then just for fun!


Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


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Brick House

                                              Brick House  

We call them bricks. 
Cold, hard and clueless. 
Stacked together, creating a thick wall of ignorance. 
Unwilling to learn, resistant to change, 
Eyes dull and confused, 
with faces as dry as the day before. 
Dragging themselves to their designated seats, 
not expecting much from their day.  
No energy, no enthusiasm, 
no imagination or curiosity. 
Just there to fill a space. 
We shake our heads at the occasional shout of a wrong answer, 
a spit ball, or a fight. 
Helpless and hopeless  
we go on, speaking to no one in particular. 
No amount of planning can spark their interest. 
No measure of strategy can help them to understand.
A last glimmer of hope concocts ideas of action. 
Hoping to make a difference;
to convert their mentality from complacency to achievement. 
Our attempts are rejected. 
With deliberate defiance we are met with objection. 
The lack of support produces disappointment and regret. 
A new found disdain hovers over us. 
Optimism is a fleeting thought. 
Helpless and hopeless we go on, 
Speaking to no one in particular.


Copyright © Sonia Trimmingham | Year Posted 2016


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A Song for Teachers You Made Our Life Beautiful

It began all from nursery
When I was little child
And when I always used to cry
You came and wiped my eyes

My wishes are for those teacher’s
Who gave us wings to fly
Who always gave a helping hand
For that, we say thank you

This song is for you
You made our life beautiful
I know you’re proud of me
As I’m proud of you

<<< >>>

When I look back to my past
I used to be very shy
You inspired me in such a way
I could see my childhood fly

My wishes are for those teacher’s
Who motivate students through
In the tough times you’ve been with us
For that, we say thank you

This song is for you
You made our life beautiful
I know you’re proud of me
As I’m proud of you

<<< >>>

You made a difference in our lives
Every time when we grew
You made our minds grow strong
One child at a time

My wishes are for those teacher’s
Who loved us like their child
You never left us all alone
For that, we say thank you

This song is for you
You made our life beautiful
I know you’re proud of me
As I’m proud of you


Copyright © Sujish Kandampully | Year Posted 2016


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Nostalgia and Teachers Day 2

Nostalgia and Teachers' Day ...continue

Of course, I cannot forget Mrs Liong, a most motherly figure of a compassionate teacher…
Her reputation of being the best teacher was impeccable even among the teachers…

Small wonder my forte in science subjects was unquestionably in a subject called Biology…
When for over two years, the best teacher in school was your teacher in Biology…

Now that all those years have rolled on, so are long gone my teachers and others…..
Nevertheless their flames and passion for education continue to flame in many others….

To all teachers, past, present and the future, come May 16th ,  Happy Teachers’ Day!


Copyright © KENG CHUAN SENG | Year Posted 2015


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THE NEW OLD LEGENDS

These were the people 
who taught us everything 
we knew about our majors 

These were the people 
who encouraged us along the way
on fulfilling our goals 
and embracing new challenges

These were the people 
who held our hands through 
each and every obstacle 
of the college experience
like golden compasses

These were the people 
whom we called 
our surrogate mothers
fathers and siblings 

These were the people 
who helped inspired us 
to become the nation builders
we are today 

                                                                  Written by: Mia Pratt, 2017




Copyright © Mia Pratt | Year Posted 2017


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A Chirpy Bird

A chirpy bird with colored wings
Lends solace everyday
To the great sage whose wisdom brings
Advice to those astray.

The children taught by him are now
The mighty of the land,
Yet when they see him pass they bow
And humbly shake his hand.

He has no wealth which eyes can see,
But he is glad and proud
That his disciples came to be
Admired and praised aloud.

He could have spent his life in quest
For nothing else but gold,
Yet, poor indeed, he feels so blessed
His soul not to have sold.

Find my poems and published poetry volumes at www.eton-langford.com


Copyright © Eton Langford | Year Posted 2016


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Teachers

Centuries have passed,
Technology has developed, 
Fascinating inventions, 
Has had the world enveloped.

Innovative minds ,
Their creative brains, 
Are polished and nourished,
By the teachers they attain.

Feared by them,
We keep away,
They build us routes,
Showing us our way.

Talking behind their backs,
We keep them nicknames,
Unfortunately we involve,
Adding to their fame.

Mother sings a lullaby, 
She makes a child sleep,
But a teacher with her lectures, 
Make's 50 students kip.

Slapping at your mistakes,
You get scolded at times,
With such bad instances,
Thou in outside world shines.

Strict they maybe,
They might scold,
To make you mature,
Before you go old.

Leaving their kids,
They sew our career,
Running behind us,
To make our future.

Sacrificing their leisure,
They employ their time,
To inculcate educational values,
To spread the wisdom rhyme.

We bitter the times,
With their experiences so bad,
Years later we recall in memory,
”Those were the teachers we had”.

Their names we kept,
Their unrealistic fears,
At time of departing,
Brings us tears.

Incomplete are we,
Without these preachers,
Who chose to live,
The life of a teacher .
                   - Kedar K


Copyright © Kedar kate | Year Posted 2017


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Goody Kindergarten Field Trip

Mary, did you get the memo about the meeting?
What meeting?
Today’s.
When is it?
Now.

No, I didn’t get it.
Come on.
I don’t think so.
I hate meetings.

Okay. But while I am here, I have to ask.
Do you want to go on a field trip with the kindergarteners?
No.
Teacher looks surprised.
Why?
Kindergarten is hard. I’d rather jump off a cliff into a vat of wild boars
Who have not been fed in a week than go on any field trip with Kindergarteners.

Kindergarten teacher laughs,
Thinking Mary is kidding.
Mary is not.



Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


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Now For That Ode Of A Sonnet

As a still trying to improve “Dyslexic” - I have found that hard work - there are just so many different types of “Sonnets” and just reading it all - did my flippin’ head in  - “Wow” do I even want to go there ?  “Well” with constructive comments I am sure “Gonna” find out - If not there’s always my - Did I have to be so “Witty” Rhymes to return too -  “God” give my flippin’ over taxed “Noggins” a rest - he he he  . . . ; )


NOW FOR THAT “ODE” OF A “SONNET” . . . 
 
“Oo” Trembling in my boots - I’ve been put to the "Task" . . .  (a-11)
The "Gauntlet" down - am I up to the test  . . . ? (b-9)
From “Teppo” our very own “Sonnet” maestro - no less . . .  (b-9)
But before any “Glory” that I have the right to “Basque” . . . (a-11)
"Firstly" - just what is a “Sonnet” - I so need to ask . . .  (a-11)
Then - how did I get into this "Unholy" mess . . .   ? (b-9)
Too big for “Ma” boots - I hear - "God" bless . . . (b-9) 
Reaching for the sticky tape - all mistakes I hope to mask . . . (a-11) 
Would it help you to know I didn’t do school . . . ?  (c-10)
And this ode of a “Sonnet” - is driving me quite “Mad” . . . (d-11)
As one’s first attempt - I am failing quite fast . . .  (e-9)
Thought having a go would make me look so “Cool” . . . (c-10)
I’m hitting the last line and “Boy” am I so glad . . . (d-11) 
“As” I cannot say - I'm having myself a “Blast” . . .  (e-9) 

At the time of writing this I did not know "Syllabels" existed - let alone how to even spell the flippin' word - and there has to be a set amount of "Syllabels" to each line - "So" when I wrote it - it was with the word lengh to following suit with the a-bb-a : ect - not "Syllabels" - now I stand corrected . . . 

Indiana Shaw . . . ; )

After thought . . .   

"Just" how many "Sonnets" can one take - Before everyone knows I'm just a "Sonnet" fake . . . : )


Copyright © Indiana Shaw | Year Posted 2016


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Teachers

Who taught the world to read?
Not for money but a good deed
Taught us how to spell
And picked us when we fell

Taught us how to count
Told us the world was round
Standing in front of creatures
All with different features
Preaching in sense of teaching
Helping reach dreams that need reaching

Doctors and lawyers
Even taught the rock stars
If the world were fair
Would have seen talent so rare

I love my teacher


Copyright © thabiso xulu | Year Posted 2018


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Thanks teacher

Each day I come to school, I need and hope to learn. 
Giving us your wisdom is how your money’s earned.
It’s you that sows the seed, knowledge it shall grow,
It all goes in my brain, though some of it quite slow.
Each footstep that I take upon this long hard road 
has it’s journey eased as you have shared the load.
My thanks and gratitude to you, rarely do I show.
So here is a small gift, just to let you know.
Without your help and guidance
The journey would not start
So thanks to you
From the bottom of my heart.

Most of these "ditties" I write for coasters we sell on Ebay... I love doing it and they do actually sell! I am not sure who is more surprised...lol 
Thanks for reading it.


Copyright © stuart chandler | Year Posted 2017


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THE FIRST TIME

I remember when I kissed my first girlfriend,
exciting, moist,  and tasting of bread and butter,
if only I could utter the words that arose within me,
but I had a mouth full at the time, now it's history.

The second time I was more blase,' so they say
that with all my experience, I was ready to go deeper,
but, of course, there were pitfalls along the way,
especially when I found out that someone was gay.

No matter, a kiss is a beautiful loving thing,
to be cherished and remembered forever;
sometimes it's 'who kissed who,' let's say reciprocal,
we want it that way, anything else is illogical.

I'd like to go back, learn everything once more,
been appreciative now I know what's in store.


Copyright © Terry Reeves | Year Posted 2017


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WHEN GOD HAS CREATED THE WORLD

When god has created the world ,
then he felt something was covered ,
humans were easy to build but hard to teach,
but he got a solution at a home where he reach,
that home never had been seen ,
there all things were looking so bright and clean ,
a person was standing at front of god ,,
god searched his file to find that man's record ,,
when he could not find his name 
then he asked him to explain ,,
then he replied '' who will teach the world about their rights 
will make them understand that never do fights" ,
who will give their mind  confidence roots,,
which will turn later in a sweet fruit ,,
as not by name ,but you can call me teacher ,,
yes, am also in one of your creature ,,
he ain't anyother he was our teacher ,
who were sent by god to make our future ,,,


Copyright © SHUBHAM DHAMA | Year Posted 2016