Waving to the bus driver
Coming on the bus. Door closing.
Journey. To my workplace. Get off.
I say thank you, and I wave to the driver
From the bottom of my heart
The driver waves back
The smile of driver is honest
Beautiful
This daily moment
On many a workday morning,
I sit at my kitchen table and
watch the BIRDS lite on electric
lines, or listen to their sweet
chirps from the treetops.
I watch the SUN rising over the
horizon, and in early Fall, I observe
the green FIELDS of harvest slowly
yielding their bounty. Left behind after
a few weeks of sweat and toil is a sea
of brown SOIL prepping for the Spring.
I will often feel the earth rumbling
beneath my feet from a passing TRAIN
rushing her huge and heavy cargo
to markets both North and South.
It won't be long before I'll witness
with joy the MIGRATING BIRDS flying
South to survive the cold of Old Man Winter.
In my own mind, I am overwhelmed by the sheer
commonality of all the above. Indeed, they are all
so very faithful in executing their God-given task.
Moreover, presently, I am most impressed and find
myself musing over the faithfulness of a person behind
the wheels of a big yellow bus with bright and flashing
lights. She's a SCHOOL BUS DRIVER who with great
dedication, passes my home every school-day morning
at 7 AM. I tell you; her punctuality inspires me.
And her employer should be proud of her.
The school bus was full up one rainy day
You can't come aboard the driver did say
Mary cried for she would be late for school
And being late went against the school rules.
Yet the driver had a heart worth pure gold
He couldn't leave Mary stood in rain and cold
Someone may offer a lift, he then thought
His mind a kaleidoscope of discourse.
So the driver asked a sweet natured lass
Could little Mary please sit on her lap
Yes Mary can, the gracious girly said
And a friendship grew of the special best.
Still the two girls remain pals to this day
Sharing life's ups and downs along the way
With many special times they can recall
But the one on the bus is best of all.
The prettiest thing I’ve seen today
Is often there a rare display
The shinning star in her constellation
That moves about insighting sensation
Like music to the ears
A treasure to the eyes
What the tongue calls sweet
A smile labeled compleat
Desire driven by the shape of the eyes
The hour glass figure is no surprise
Cheeks with dimples that paralyze
Hair tamed by curls supplied
The length of which says satisfied
How precious this feeling of being hugged
With eyes embracing the pinnacle of love
The momentary destination
Of heaven from above
The meaning of pleasure
Satisfaction without measure
Children can be pretty noisy while you’re driving
As they are in your responsible care.
When you take the bus back to the garage,
After dropping every child at their homes or daycare
Make a thorough sweep over every row ensuring a child has not
Been left behind and make sure everything is secure.
4/19/2024
Dear driver of the bus, drive your bus with care and concern for the children
Be not in haste but be prompt, and be mindful of every rule while on the road
Dear Bus Monitor, count the children entering and tick every child that leaves
Your job is done if the ‘ins’ and ‘outs’ tally, I give you a register and pen for that
But that is not all, must search every nook and corner of the bus in the end
Like you are looking for hidden treasure, if you draw blank, it’ll be a pleasure.
Rainy wipers across the window splash
Across the road you should not dash
To catch a piece of windblown trash
Waddle like a duck and you won’t crash
Keep your eyes on the road, and your hands on the wheel
And please tell your dispatcher, if ills how you feel
You don't want to take chances, with kids on your bus
Their lives are in your hands, it's you that they trust
To all the young children, you must always be kind
And most days will go pleasant, if you keep that in mind
My wife was once a school bus driver
Brave lady she's still in therapy, a survivor
It's quite a sad tale
At times gets derailed
Aims at kiddies with words I can't decipher
I always enjoy at 4:15 PM
No matter where I’ve been
In my house
Backyard living room kitchen
The beep beep of the yellow school bus driver
As he rolls away through the neighborhood
With all those kids skipping jumping
And running home to be happy
The driver’s gentle toot toot reassuring them
The world’s still kind
How he makes the beep beep
Sound silly and muffled
I do not know
But it’s quite a skill
I think
To find the will
And the time to make
That little gesture
What a difference maker
A pat on the back that lasts a lifetime
Not only for all those wondrous kids
But for all the broken pain-filled people
Sad in their homes like you and me
Looking for a lift just once a day
From a yellow school bus driver
Waving and saying It’s all ok
See you tomorrow.
She came in all sassy and wanted to drive a school bus.
We told her our school is unusual and she said that is fine.
We have witches, warlocks, gargoyles, a ghost name of Gus.
She said my kin are weirder than that, they can get out of line.
So, we offered her a temporary position as driver that day.
She arrived at work an hour early, a quarter ‘til two.
The students gave her no guff, and they stopped their wild play.
For she was right about her kin, she knew just what to do.
She was magical, and she did not hesitate to turn them into frogs.
Sometimes when they got off the bus they were barking dogs.
Their parents thought it was hilarious and respected her sass.
She even turned one badly behaving student into a pink ass.
Warm, cornflower blue September skies,
Chase away end of summer
Escorting in the beginning of
Unruffled, cool, wet, autumn
Shortening the days.
Days of exhausting work
From dusk until dawn
Bring a successful abundant harvest
As summer closes.
Touch of living gaze and jump into
An intricate maze of crescendo color,
Flickering in a tangled blaze
Of whispering filigreed leaves.
Mother Nature's natural unspoiled
Watercolor weft tapestry.
The air creeps along
Filled with tickled laughter
Bring shedding leaves down
Onto the ground cover.
Rainy, and sunny filled days
Raise a gentle favouring breeze
Journey under gray and orange skies.
Nature's essence,
Of harmony and rhythm
A soul of perfection beneath
Shadowed shade and sigh
The flow of rapture proceeds in joy.
Children go back to school
On the big yellow bus
Driving the bus driver crazy.
8/29/2019
In the morning they file out of it all crisp, clean, neat, voiceless.
Dressed in plaid uniforms, white socks, a variety of jazzy shoes, not speaking.
Hair fixed in a variety of “look at me” ways, with yarn, bows, beads and boxes.
Okay, I was kidding.
No one speaking.
In the afternoon as they leave the school, their voices have opened up.
They are like flowers whose petals were pulled off, thorny, loud,
The bus windows are pushed down with slams.
We teachers can hear them screaming, shrieking, laughing,
They holler at us from the bus. “Hey Mrs. K!” “Hey Mrs. A!” “Hey Mrs. Z!”
Their hair is askew, the adornments long gone.
They are on their way home, crazily happy, excited, and loud.
Headed to their video games.
In the meantime, we send prayers to the bus driver.
The bus driver and a rowing boat
I remember a song “A slow boat to China”
There was a man a bus driver who took his wife on holiday to Spain
where his wife ran away with a shepherd
The bus driver went home alone but had the house which exploded
(a gas leak) when he sat on the loo; he was unharmed but somewhat
embarrassed. When the insurance money, came he bought a rowing boat
which had a mast and he could set sail when the wind was right.
He landed in Falmouth before the winter storms.
When spring came he rowed and sailed to the island of Neves where
he met John Cleeve, who wrote a funny article about the brave man
and suddenly the bus driver was famous.
The rich people in Neve gave him money which put in a bank
(there are so many banks) when he went to the bank to draw
out money for an ice-cream, he found he was a millionaire.
High finance is a mystery and something had gone wrong
not for him to ask questions, but he did transfer the money
to a Swiss bank and took the first plane back to Europe.
The bus driver is now a prosperous cattle farmer in Andalusia.
Hey, you could be a bus driver!
And do you have nerves of steel?
Can you drive while people scream?
Are you awake at five?
Do children mind you?
Do you love kids?
Hooray!
Driver
Bus
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